


You never got to heaven but you got real close.

by tinyviolin



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Harry, Daddy Kink, Feminine Harry, Harry is a liar, Harry's life sucks a lot, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Louis is a little bitch, Louis is insensitive, Love/Hate, M/M, Poor Harry, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rich Louis, Sugar Baby Harry, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:45:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 66,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyviolin/pseuds/tinyviolin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is William Tomlinson's sugar baby. Louis, his son, doesn't appreciate that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Mum.” Louis spoke into the phone, his voice weak and trembling, mortified by what he has just witnessed, not only five minutes ago. “Oh, hi Loulou! How-” Her soft, cheerful voice was interrupted by what seemed like an inhuman shriek coming from her son's mouth, who appeared to be quite terrorized, if not traumatized by what just happened. “Are you alright?” She breathed, worry clear in her confused tone.

“Dad.” Louis only blurted, making his mother sigh. “What about him?” She rolled her eyes, at the thought of her ex-husband doing something stupid, as always.

“A new companion.” Louis only spoke. His mother's mind wandered immediately to some new girlfriend, probably Louis' age, all pretty and dolled-up, enjoying her ex-husband's fat bank account, but it happened before, so she didn't see what the big deal was. “What about her?” She tried to be patient, listening to what her son had to overreact about.

“That's the problem, it's not a her.”

A long silence followed. His mother finally cleared her throat. “That's a new one.” She finally reacted, making Louis fake a sob into the phone. “I can't live with that boy in this house, ma! I'll come back to the frat house. There's no other way out of this.” His mother brushed the whole situation off with a giggle. “For a gay person, you sure are very homophobic, Lou.”

“It's not- It's not that I am homphobic- It's just weird! Oh my God! And the boy looks younger than me. Dad is so embarrassing. I hate him.” Louis kept complaining, making his mother laugh even louder. “Louis, you just have to close your eyes and let it pass. Your dad's getting old, I doubt he still has all of his brain.”

Louis pouted as he did not get the reaction he hoped from his mum. He wanted her to share his thoughts and be as outraged as he was, but instead, she seemed rather cool about it. “What kind of example is he giving to the girls by doing this?”

“Louis... Just drop it. It's his life, he can do whatever he wants.”

She defeated him, so he bid farewell and hung up. He sat on top of his room's wooden floor for a moment, just contemplating life and reminiscing the embarrassment he had just gone through, before calling his mother.

He had just came back from university, at four in the afternoon, wanting to spend some quality time with his father, whose house was not very far away from where he studied. He didn't spend much time at his dad's, during the beginning of the year, but after the atmosphere in the frat house started to become somewhat weird and tense for Louis, for odd, and still unkown reasons, he decided that his dad's residence wasn't so bad after all.

His father's chauffeur was present, all of his father's cars were parked outside, so he was quite surprised when he received no answer after he called for him. He was in his study, Louis thought but was deceived to find an empty chair behind the large mahogany desk. His room! Louis rushed upstairs, towards the giant double door at the end of the hall, and opened it without knocking. That was a huge mistake.

The image of his father laying on his bed -wearing his pyjamas, thank God- and a shirtless person -boy or girl? Louis couldn't quite guess, Their torso didn't carry any breasts, but the person had long hair, and the hands that rested on his father's chest were quite feminine and its nails were polished- right next to him was haunting him. They were watching the giant screen placed in front of the bed, the other person's face was buried inside Louis' father's neck -kissing him, maybe? Louis didn't want to think about that- but both jumped in surprise after Louis entered the room.

The person's face was finally visible, Louis thought it was a boy, but still had doubts, as he had quite androgynous features. “Louis?” His father couldn't help but question, both offended by this sudden, impolite entrance and startled.

“I think I'll come back later.” Louis mumbled, still not swallowing what he just witnessed. The boy-girl-guy, as Louis quickly named him, looked as surprised as the former, as if embarrassed by getting caught. Embarrassed, well, he better be, Louis thought. The boy barely looked above twenty. Louis' father was approaching sixty. A forty years difference is rather disgusting, Louis thought.

“No.” Louis' father quickly spoke, getting up from the bed, not without struggling, as his back hurt him most of the time. “Now that the occasion came, I'd like the both of you to meet properly.” The boy-girl-guy's jaw hung while Louis started to panick. This couldn't get any more awkward.

“William, you don't have to-” The person finally spoke, and Louis decided that the boy-girl-guy was indeed a boy, and that his father has probably been a closeted homosexual for a very long time. “It's alright. Louis, I'd like you to meet Harry. He...” His father was trying to find an appropriate label for said Harry, as he walked slowly towards Louis, and finally put a delicate hand behind his son's back, which made him flinch. “He has been keeping me company, these past months.”

Said Harry smiled before waving and saying a small, friendly “hi”. The fact that the boy wouldn't get up and that his bottom half was hidden under the sheets suggested that he might be a little bit more than shirtless. It disgusted Louis. “Yeah, hi. Uh- I'd like to stay but- I just remembered some stuff- I gotta go.” Louis quickly blurted before tunring around, making quick steps to get away from that room full of awkwarness as soon as humanly possible.

“He doesn't really like me.” Harry said in a small voice, a bitter smile making his deep dimples pop in his rosy cheeks. “Don't mind him.” The older man shrugged, knowing that Louis' reaction wouldn't be extremely friendly. “I'd better leave.” The green eyed boy took a sitting position, straightening his back, ready to wear his clothes back and exit the house. “Oh, come on. You will stay for dinner. Louis will probably go out with friends or something.”

And that was what happened.

Louis went out to avoid further embarrassing situations involving his father's boyfriend, promising himself to never, ever step in that house again, William and Harry stayed in, ate dinner, took a bath together, then went to bed. Harry rarely slept at William's and would usually come back home, but that day, he was too tired and got sleepy after the bath.

Not being used to sleeping too early, which happened that day, he found himself wide awake at the middle of the night, with nothing to do but listen to William's loud snoring and stare at the plaster ceiling. He then decided to get up, wanting to grab a midnight snack, knowing that the food at William's house was always the best. His multiple fridges were never empty, and his kitchen felt like heaven to Harry.

Since he has been spending quite some time at William's, Harry didn't even need to switch the lights on in order to find his path. He just had to follow the corridor, take the stairs at the right, get down, cross the huge living room, make sure not to bump against anything pricy and break it by accident. He knew William wouldn't say anything but still, he didn't want to owe him anything else more than he already did. Then, he would climb down three little stairs, to finally find the kitchen. The lights, to his surprise, were already on, and at first, he thought that one of the people working there forgot them, right before he remembered William's son.

Harry suddenly felt like he should come back to the bedroom and forget about his snack. However, he realized that it was too late to back up when his eyes met a pair of blue, ocean-like ones, quite similar to William's. Louis was sitting in front of the counter, a bowl of cereals and a bottle of milk placed right before him. Harry quickly regained his composure, knowing that he couldn't let William's son intimidate him, convincing himself not to care about the stranger. So, he did. He graciously flipped the luscious curls at the end of his hair and made his way to the fridge, not really minding the way Louis' irises were digging holes right through Harry's half naked body.

Harry has never felt self-conscious about his physionomy, he knew his potential, knew that he was a pretty face with a nice body, but with Louis' eyes scanning him, probably mentally commenting about his choice of clothes -which consisted of feminine shorties and William's oversized Gucci shirt whose shoulders reached Harry's thin elbows-, Harry couldn't help but feel quite ill at ease.

His body was entirely waxed, that or Harry was extremely hairless, Louis, who had to come back after his little escapade with his friends and break all of the promises he made to himself, after remembering that all of his clothes, books and gadgets were at his dad's, noticed. He was tall, probably reaching six feet, smelled quite good, had toned muscles -not too muscular, not too skinny-, and despite his charming physique, Louis couldn't help but dislike him.

He had many reasons to do so.

First of all, William could easily pass for Harry's father, and that was wrong, just plain wrong and embarrassing for Louis. Secondly, Harry had gold-digger written all over his body. No matter how wealthy he could be -which Louis doubted-, Harry could probably not reach William's wealth, and greediness had no limits, so Harry was obviously more into William's bank account than William himself. And that was just disgusting, Louis thought. And then, if the prejudices surrounding the homosexual community weren't enough, Harry had to portray every one of those stereotypes. With nails painted with a pale champagne, long hair and lacy underwear, Harry couldn't get more effeminated, and it made Louis want to roll his eyes so hard they'd probably get stuck behind his lids. And also, Harry had this arrogant expression painted over his flawless face that made Louis' hate grow greater.

“Harry, right?” Louis couldn't help but say, a tone of disgust and scorn in his voice.

“Yes, Harry.” The other boy answered, as he opened one of the fridges to reach for a bottle of Lipton iced tea, which he opened swiftly, as he graciously closed the fridge using his bare foot.

“And how old are you Harry?”

None of them was facing the other, but Louis could feel Harry smirk, as if the situation they were in amused him. “Nineteen, Louis.” He replied with a light, sweet voice, that made Louis angrier than the answer itself. “I am older than you.” Louis simply commented, hoping Harry would realize how disgusting his relationship with William was, but he didn't seem bothered the slightest.

“I know.”

Harry grabbed a banana after taking a few gulps out of the bottle full of iced tea, he then sat on top of one of the numerous stools surrounding the round marble counter that occupied the space at the center of the kitchen. He made sure to face Louis directly. He slowly peeled the fruit, almost sensually, before wrapping his plump lips around the tip, not even biting it, only sucking on it, which made Louis both uncomfortable and confused. He avoided eye contact. Harry finally bit on the tender flesh of the fruit.

“We don't have to hate each other.” Harry's smooth, poisonous voice pronounced slowly. Louis rolled his eyes. “I don't hate you. I don't care about you.” He then heard Harry giggle, a calm, beautiful laugh it was, but Louis would never admit it. “You really do hate me.” He smiled, earning another second of eye contact with the unfriendly blue eyed boy.

Those short moments were enough for Louis to notice the large dimples that popped up deep in Harry's cheeks, giving him a childish, candid physique that he didn't deserve.

“I don't waste my time on hating gold-digging whores like yourself.” Louis coldly spat before standing up, grabbing his bowl of cereal with him. “Your mama did a bad job raising you, I see. Disrespecting perfect strangers like this.” Harry thought it would be amusing to provoke Louis back but the older lad just continued his path back to his room, trying to calm himself and not take things further.

 

The second time Harry and Louis met was three days later. Louis' car broke down, he wanted to grab some clothes from his father's house and called the chauffeur. “Do you mind if we make a quick stop, sir?” The driver asked politely, as he tried to look for a parking spot in the busy streets of the city. “No, go ahead.” Louis shrugged, never doubting that somebody else would share his ride.

The back door opened, revealing a tall, slim figure that Louis immediately recognized. He sighed, glued himself to the corner of the seat and let his head rest against the windown, hoping to avoid any form of contact with his father's boyfriend.

William tried to explain things to Louis, during the days that followed the incident. He got lonely because they all decided to live with their mother in London, met Harry at a brunch and they clicked. Harry was a lawyer's son, his mother did charity work and he didn't have any siblings. Harry was taking a year off after high school before going to college, and that was why he spent a lot of time at William's.

Louis didn't buy most of what his father told him. For some reason, Harry looked suspiscious to Louis, but he soon forgot about the younger boy, until that day.

“Hi.” Harry politely spoke, earning nothing but silence from Louis, whose eyes were curiously watching the neighbourhood they were in. Close to the one where William lived, too damn expensive for a lawyer to afford, Louis thought, but maybe Harry's family is wealthy regardless of his fahter's job.

The fact that Harry didn't have his own car was suspiscious too. If he were rich, he would be capable of affording one and not waiting for William's driver to pick him up. And Louis was certain that every rich kid's sixteenth birthday present was a fancy car, so where was Harry's gift? Nowhere to be seen, apparently.

Louis dared to turn his face for a small minute, hoping for Harry's eyes to be somewhere else. Thank God, they were glued to his phone's screen, as his thumb scrolled past his Instagram feed, Louis noticed. The boy was wearing white skinny jeans, a colourful shirt, brown suede boots with small heels and had a black leather purse between his manicured fingers.

The boy looked bored, and it surprised Louis how flawless and perfect his structure was, even when making no effort into appearing gorgeous. Louis couldn't lie, the boy looked like a nymph straight out of a greek legend. No blemishes on his skin, no disgracious features, he almost didn't look real, and most of all, made Louis feel extremely self-conscious.

So Louis decided to hate him more.

“Do your parents know about your sixty years old boyfriend?” Louis couldn't help but finally ask, finally erasing the blank expression on Harry's face, replacing it with a small, satisfied smirk, as if the fact that Louis talked was an accomplishment in itself.

“I thought you didn't care about me. Why so curious, all of a sudden?”

Harry's eyes didn't leave his phone. It offended Louis. He huffed in annoyance before shutting his mouth forever. He really needed to either stop his father's madness or just completely disappear and secretely hope for a sudden break up.

 

Louis stopped going at his father's house, in hopes to never stumble across his father's weird conquest and suffer more severe cases of second hand embarrassment. His father can be so silly sometimes, Louis can't even imagine what else he could've done.

With a small amount of alcohol running through his veins, Louis scanned the crowded living room of the frat house he has spent most of his days in, just observing. Louis liked to do that, watch people for a while and wonder about them. He wondered if the people dancing in the middle even knew each others' names, if they were even legal, if they were drunk, sober, high. He also wondered if the party would last long or if the campus' police would crash it. He bet on the second one. They didn't allow trouble to happen around there. With that last thought, he grabbed a bottle of beer off the counter and climbed the stairs, hopping towards his room.

On his way, passing Alexander's room, he heard some noise, but didn't give it much thought before opening his own door and spending the night watching a sloppy movie from the eighties.

Alexander was mainly the reason why Louis stopped living in the frat house for a while. They used to be such good friends in middle school, before Louis moved to England, but a few months after Louis came back, Alexander simply started hating Louis and didn't hide it. They stopped talking to each other and each time they met, tension would immediately fill the air.

The next morning, Louis' surprise was grand when he jolted awake at dawn, fully rested. The sky was slowly dressing itself in shades of blue, pink and orange when he went out of his room, deciding that he'd help with the cleaning this time. He hated the mess parties always left behind them.

He was about to enter the kitchen when he heard quick steps leaping down the stairs. He didn't get much time to identify this early waker before hearing the entrance door slam loudly and their steps fainting. Must have been some stranger that crashed in the house the night before, Louis shrugged before taking a trash bag and fill it with empty red cups and bottles.

Stealing a quick glance from the kitchen's window, he could see a lean silhouette that faintly reminded him of his dad's boyfriend.

Louis really needed to stop thinking about that guy.

 

“I think u shuld check this out” Niall typed before sending the link of a video. Louis furrowed his eyebrows, thinking that it was some kind of joke, because the link Niall just sent led Louis towards an amateur gay porn website. The title was too degrading for Louis to even read it mentally out loud. He didn't even bother starting the video and immediately answered Niall.

“What is wrong with u?????” He typed quickly, receiving an immediate response. “this is awks but rlly u shuld see the video, its all over campus and they talk about u at some point” Louis' eyes widened. Why would people talk about Louis in a fucking porn video? Who even made that video? Louis was getting scared, hoping that Niall's words weren't an euphesim concerning a potential appearance of Louis in the video. What if somebody filmed him and put it online? Louis was screwed, completely fucked.

He gulped, lowered the volume, put his earphones on then clicked start. He then immediately closed his eyes. It felt like an eternity of silence for Louis before he finally heard the faintest voice. He bit his lips so hard he thought they would end up bleeding as he slowly unlocked his lids, revealing to his blue, fearful irises, a blurry image. There was a frozen, naked body on top of the bed, doing nothing, just laying on their stomach, as if waiting for somebody to come for them. Louis heard a whimper come out of the unkown man's -Louis guessed, since it was a gay website- mouth. Frustration mixed with anticipation slowly built up inside Louis' abdomen, because nothing was happening.

The video was thirty two minutes long. Louis skipped five minutes and his jaw almost hung when the first thing he saw was a very familiar face. The boy was still laying on his stomach, his face looking paler than normal, and eyelids ajar.

“Look at the camera.” A strict voice ordered and a pair of shy, humiliated and tearful green eyes slowly looked up. “Now you will repeat after me. I am nothing but a piece of gold-digging fuckmeat and I suck Tomlinson's dick for a living.” Louis was beyond shocked, especially after recognizing not only the second voice but also the room. The camera slowly approached Harry's livid face and a loud slap was heard after that.

“Fucking speak up, you scum!”

Louis couldn't watch more, but he couldn't stop himself either. For some reason, he was afraid to even focus on Harry's face, or even skip to the end. He did the last one though, but still decided that it would be better to close his eyes. “Please- S-Stop-” He heard Harry's weak voice sob. “P-Please-” He didn't even sound like a conscious person which led Louis to think that he was either drunk or high. He tried so hard not to think of the possibility of Alexander drugging Harry.

“I know you like getting your ass fucked like the little filthy whore you are, stop whining.” Another slap was heard. Louis has had enough. He opened his eyes, paused the video as fast as he could, which did not spare him the sight of an entirely naked Harry getting his backside roughly penetrated. It made Louis both cringe and feel sick, for obvious reasons.

He immediately reported the video and was glad to see that the comments were all about how twisted the content was. Louis then shut his laptop and took a deep breath, trying to register what he had just witnessed. He just saw his father's boyfriend get raped.

He just saw a person get raped. And he just saw his father's boyfriend naked, which was a desastrous, stressful combo. For some reason, Louis remembered the night of the party, hearing some noise coming from Alexander's room, and felt a pang of guilt while thinking that if he had just checked what it was about, he could've saved the boy. He also realized that his sight of Harry the next morning wasn't a hallucination.

Louis felt as if he were going mad.

As much as he tried to feel satisfied because he supposedly “hates” Harry, Louis couldn't, especially not after seeing him crying and begging a merciless heart for mercy. He didn't know what Harry did to Alexander, but the boy's revenge was way out of limits.

“sooooooo??????” Louis read Niall's message but ignored it, still too unsettled to even talk to somebody.

Five hours later, the video was taken down from the website. And Louis met Alexander two times around campus but they didn't speak, only digging holes into each other's bodies, hoping it could kill the other.

Louis decided to come back to his father's house that night.

 

He didn't find a broken, depressed Harry, as he expected, but a smiling, charming one, just his usual self, as if nothing ever happened. That day, he was wearing a silky purple kimono over knee length jean shorts and a shirtless torso. Smelling like a teenage girl, and looking like a cherub, as always when he was around William.

Louis only greeted the both of them before going to his room, too shocked to even think clearly. Why was Harry acting so normally? If something like that happened to Louis, he didn't even know how he'd live with himself. At least, he wouldn't act like a cheerful kitten and wander around, drinking smoothies and cracking jokes with his sixty years old boyfriend. He'd probably spend his entire life in his room, just thinking about what happened and hating Alexander.

When Louis was called to dinner, he was surprised to only see Harry, waiting for him with a small, friendly smile. “Your father had an important call to make.” Small dimples appeared next to his lips, making Louis' frustration grow even greater. How could he act like this?

“I-I know about the video.” Louis blurted out of the blue, his eyes focusing on his plate, too scared to even face the younger boy, whose expression grew slightly worried, but never making him loose his composure. “What video?” He asked, a tone of fake amusement clear in his voice. “Alexander Richards'. And don't even try to deny it.”

An angel passes by. The silence is deafening. Louis finally dares to look up, only to find Harry intensely staring at him, making him feel uncomfortable. “We-Hum- He's in my frat house- It was all over campus.” Louis tried to explain but the boy's gaze was too intimidating. Louis couldn't even believe that it was the same person in the video. “Talk about Richards one more time and I'll fucking end you.” Harry spoke through gritted teeth, his hands gripping his knife so hard his nuckles turned white, as if he were ready to kill someone.

Those were not the words Louis were expecting. He felt more scared from Harry's burning stare than his actual words, and couldn't even believe how fast his act of the perfect little boyfriend had been brought to an end. Louis gulped. He couldn't even understand why this boy- this fucking princess, as Alexander called him in the video, would intimidate him in such a way. He has fucking beige nail polish and is wearing a flower printed bandana on his head, for crying out loud! If anything, he should be the one intimidated by Louis, not the other way around.

Unexpectedly, Harry stood up and left the dining room only for Louis to realize, half an hour later, that he left the house.

 

“What was Harry's last name again?” Louis asked his father, making him frown in confusion. “Why?” Louis mumbled quickly something about wanting to add him on social media, that he looked like a nice guy and that Louis might have misjudged him, which fooled his father faster than Louis had expected. “Ford.”

“Oh, okay.”

That was when Louis knew that something was wrong. After Harry left the house, and before his father came back from his phone conference, Louis went to the bathroom and was surprised to find an old, almost falling to pieces, leather wallet at the top of the stairs. He grabbed it, and of course, it was Harry's. Despite it being extremely rude, Louis had to look inside it.

He found and ID and a small amount of money. Louis read the identity card and grew suspiscious the moment he realized that Harry lied about his age. He was just eighteen, and not nineteen, as he pretended to be. The adress scribbled on the card was unkown to Louis, and it made things seem even weirder, since Louis knew all of the city's map by heart. Small detail he seemed to forgot, Louis only knew the city's fancy neighbourhoods, subconsciously thinking that it was all what the city was made of, large houses and luxurious buildings.

So Louis decided to make a test, and the results were exactly what he was hoping for. Harry is a liar. His last name was not Ford, which made Louis wonder even more about his father's intelligence. How could he not even do some proper research about his boyfriend?

That night, Louis invested more energy into looking for informations about Harry than making his assignments. Let's just say that the truth was way uglier than Louis expected.

The first thing he did was look up his adress. Louis was mortified. The neighbourhood Harry lived in was one of the poorest, most dangerous places in the city, and Louis never even heard of it, let alone stepped in it some day. He couldn't help but hate the boy even more, the gold-digger image was now officially glued to Harry's face in Louis' mind.

However, Louis was now facing a big dilemna. Should he tell his father or not? Louis decided to let Harry know first. But what if Harry is actually dangerous and harms Louis the moment the truth is revealed? Louis couldn't risk getting his face smashed by some money-thirsty savage like Harry.

Louis, after ten minutes of internal debate, decided that the best thing would be to tell his dad, who would know about Harry's little games, one day or another. He was about to get up from his fluffy bed when he heard a knock on his door. He finally sat up and asked the knocker to come in.

Just the person he was not looking forward to seeing.

“I've lost my wallet-”

Two things Louis noticed. Harry was not wearing his usual pretty, feminine clothes, but a pair of baggy, torn up jeans and a black hoodie, and he smelled of nail polish remover. He also looked scared, as if his life was depending on that wallet.

“I thought something important showed up-” Louis faked a frown, and Harry gulped, stopping his words. “Yeah, I just- I was looking for my wallet and couldn't find it. Had to come back.” Harry mumbled. “A charity event you had to attend, was it? You've got a very particular style.” Harry knew that Louis was making fun of the excuse he had to use in order to justify the fact that he left dinner, an excuse which William later told Louis about.

“Did you see my wallet, please?” Harry changed the topic, taking a stern voice, that made Louis smirk. He had now the upper hand. “Here it is. For a liar, you sure need to be more careful.” Louis gave Harry a pleased smirk as he reached for the torn piece of old black leather that he hid under his covers.

The pink on Harry's cheeks disappeared and he felt like dying when Louis handed him the wallet. In less than two weeks, this boy has managed to know about Alex, and now, most of his lies. Harry should have never met him, or he should've been, as Louis himself advivsed, more careful.

Harry was hating himself for letting his little game, his big lies, everything he has been elaborating and working for, get destroyed by this boy. He would never allow it.

“One word to your father, and you're dead.” He threatened in the coldest voice he could mutter, hoping that it would be enough to frighten that pussy of a poiled brat, who only smirked wider, making Harry grit his teeth in annoyance, but most importantly, fear.

“Have you found-” William's voice was heard in the hallway, as Harry quickly put the wallet in his hoodie's front pocket. “Yeah.” He raised his voice. “I dare you to say something.” He then whispered in an angry voice, putting his hand on top of Louis' torso and shoving him violently, as an attempt to intimidate him, which worked and caught the older boy off guard. Before he could even realize what Harry has done, the former was already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited. I'll do it later. Sorry for any typos.  
> Enjoy :)  
> Feedback is always appreciated! Tell me what you think!

 

Harry still couldn't believe how careless he has been for the past days, so careless that his relationship with William was now facing great risks. As if the fact that Louis seeing that god-for-saken video wasn't enough, he also had to find out about Harry's identity, and some of his background. Just when Harry thought that life wasn't playing the biggest of the jokes on him anymore, it turned out it just gave him a few weeks of rest before carrying on hating him more.

When he got out of the house, after declining William's kind offer of driving him back home, he walked a few meters before feeling suddenly exhausted. He sat on the cold pavement, hugging his backpack against his chest and trying to think to what to do.

Louis was obviously going to tell his father. That little shit was just waiting for an occasion to cause a mess. If William doesn't call Harry before going to sleep, that same night, Harry will know that he should disappear and never risk meeting William again. He can't even imagine his reaction the moment Louis' mouth will start running. He will be so upset, so angry, but that was not the worst part. No, the worst part and as much as Harry hated to admit it, would be the lack of easy money. Harry wouldn't live like a spoiled princess anymore, and just the thought of returning to his old life scared the living out of him.

Harry's decision was quick.

He called William and waited for an answer. If he ever picks up and acts normally, Harry will come back and will spend his entire time and effort, if he had to, to never leave William and Louis alone, to never give Louis the chance of ruining their relationship again.

“Baby?”

Harry let out a loud sigh of relief when hearing the pet name. Louis kept his mouth shut. But for how long...? Probably not too long, if Harry doesn't react properly.

“I kind of- I changed my mind.” Harry knew that he wasn't smooth, that he would only make the evening even weirder, but William wasn't his worry. He would always shut the old man's questions by dropping to his knees and sucking him off, and this time wouldn't be an exception. “I was wondering if I could spend the night at yours, the house gets lonely without my parents in it.”

“What about the charity gala?”

“It will be boring, I know it.” Harry was already getting impatient. “You know I actually don't mind at all when you spend the night here, princess.” Harry cringed at the pet name, but he had to go along with it. “I'll be at yours in a few.” Harry's tone was suggestive. He guessed that the older man would hurry to swallow a pill of viagra the moment they'll hang up. He was borderline sex-crazed and obsessed with Harry, which was exhausting for the former, but he could never complain about it.

Their sex-life was what made Harry wonder about William's divorce. He had way too many odd fetishes for a normal person to handle, and especially some posh lady like his ex-wife. Or perhaps, was it just William's personnality overall. He was kind, but he was either too clingy or too passive, and there was no in-between. Either he was obsessed with work or with Harry's cock. Or perhaps William's ex-wife guessed that he was a closeted gay, and decided to leave with dignity, or did she just grow too tired of his affairs. Anyway, William's life with her was still an unsolved mystery for Harry, whose curious nature always found something to wonder about.

Louis was in his room when Harry came back, to the younger boy's biggest relief. He was also glad to hear no comments about his choice of clothes, not that he didn't already come up with the classic “wanted to piss my parents off”, but still, he was happy he didn't feel the need to lie.

“Couldn't stay away from daddy, could you?” William whispered as soon as they were finally alone, at the top floor, inside the master bedroom. Harry hated the words. He hated calling him daddy, he hated his act, he hated faking enjoyment out of the old man's perversies, but he had no choice, or so he thought. He felt enslaved, reduced to being a doll, an object in William's hand, and even if Harry has been feeling that way since he could remember, he still hasn't got used to it. He hoped he would never.

“No, daddy, I couldn't.” He breathed in his sensual, charming voice, before biting his lips, feeling William's hands slowly make their way to his clothed crotch. “Go lay on the bed, daddy wants to have fun and take his mind off things tonight.” Bad news for Harry, especially when William locked the door and walked towards his wardrobe, unlocking their special safe and freeing the older man's fantasies. From sex toys, to lingerie, passing by paddles, whips and rope, gags, could all be found in the black metallic box.

Harry swallowed hard. He was exhausted, so exhausted that he wished for nothing else but a good night of sleep. His exhaustion was mainly caused by worry and how much he ran in the past hour, especially after realizing that he lost his wallet. He was in a Starbuck's toilet, getting undressed and removing the nail polish, when he realized that he might have forgotten the billfold at William's. In that moment, he didn't care about his appearance much, all that mattered was finding his papers, before it was too late.

The rest of the night was almost a nightmare for Harry, who wouldn't have minded a simple love-making or a quickie, but instead found himself stuck for hours, gagged, tied to the bed and giving a proper show to William's whose biggest pleasure came from watching and not necessarily taking part.

Harry knew that protesting was vain, so he tried to go with it, and he honestly couldn't remember if he passed out from the overwhelming, forced pleasure, or if he simply drifted to sleep.

 

When he woke up, Harry got confused for a moment. He looked around him, wiped the dry saliva that formed around his mouth while he was gagged last night, and quickly started to panick because there was no trace of William beside him. Immediately, his paranoid mind started making up scenarios about Louis telling his father during breakfast. But again, if that happened, Harry would probably not remain asleep until noon. William would've woken him up and made Harry explain. So either Louis is wise enough to keep his mouth shut or he didn't have the chance to tell his father yet.

When he finally relaxed, Harry sat up, trying his best to ignore the pain shattering his backside and arms. His jaw was also sore, and he spent a few minutes massaging his aching muscles. After that, he tried to stand up, and failed for the first few times. He honestly couldn't feel his thighs.

He spent a few minutes in the shower, cleaning himself from the dried fluids covering the bottom of his stomach and the inside of his thighs, before dressing himself in the same hoodie, torn up jeans and worn converse he had on him the day before.

Ignoring his sore muscles, Harry made his way to the kitchen, greeted the staff, despite knowing that his presence was not very appreciated amongst them. He grabbed an apple and a glass of juice before leaving the house.

Hugging his backpack against his chest, he jogged, or at least, tried to, for a short distance before reaching a subway station. He had more than an hour of traffic ahead of him, and was already running late. He arrived in front of his highschool at 2PM, had to negociate and explain his lateness and absence to the head teacher before finally entering the classroom. He muttered a silent apology and joined his seat, at the very back of the room.

Being eighteen, and only in his first year of highschool, Harry always felt like an outcast. He has always been the oldest one in the class. He could've been the nightmare of all of his teachers if he wanted to, because he wasn't the smartest kid, but Harry was calm, so they were okay with his below average grades, as long as his behaviour was acceptable. Also, teachers knew that most of the kids in class were from difficult backgrounds, and that all of them, including Harry, if given proper conditions, would be so much better, but life wasn't fair, and the highest diploma these kids would ever obtain would probably be their highschool graduation, if they ever reach it.

At six, Harry left school, and like every day, as he strolled in the busy streets of the neighbourhood, felt depressed and disgusted. The décor created such a contrast with where William lived, and the world seemed painted in shades of black, white and grey. Everything seemed colorless or fading, including the people themselves. The place was ravaged by gang conflicts, drug dealing activity, high crime rates and overall, misery. Even the buildings looked depressing. Harry hated that neighbourhood, but knew that he was doomed to stay in it for a still unkown period of time.

He let out a loud sigh as he climbed the stairs leading to his “home”, knowing that it would never feel like a proper home for him. But he was forced to live there. He was forced to stand those awful people because he was unlucky enough to share the same blood as them. That was another thing he hated. He hated his family and he had proper reasons to do so.

He could already hear the unstoppable crying of a baby, the high angry voices of his sister and mother, and the tired groans of his father. They gave him a migraine before he even stepped inside the place.

He fucking hated them. And it wasn't just the normal “I hate my family” phase all teenagers went through, it was constant. The number of times he has thought of shooting everybody in that house to finally get a piece of rest was more than he could count. That was just how much he couldn't stand them. They were execrable people.

“Where were you?” He heard his mother's shouting as soon as he entered the messy, dirty, tiny place. “School.” He mumbled, doing his best to avoid any further conversation with her. He hated her. He hated looking at her. He hated the sight of her greasy blonde hair, her wrinkled face, her unfit clothes, her constantly glossy green eyes, her smudged make-up and her smell. He hated everything about her.

“Where'd you sleep last night?”

Harry didn't answer. He knew she wasn't worried about his safety. She just wanted to piss him off. When he chose not to answer, he soon regretted when feeling a sudden pain in his bicep. Of course she threw the remote at him to have his attention. It was typical of her.

He stopped for a moment, still not facing her but giving her what he hoped to be a satisfying answer. “I was working.” He cringed when she laughed, and closed his eyes when he heard her get up from her usual spot in front of the TV, on top of an old, flower-printed, fading couch and walked to his direction.

“Working? Oh, please.” She scoffed. “What'd' you do to those rich snobs?” Her sudden question frightened Harry for a moment. What was she talking about? “W-What?” He stuttered. “How many times did I tell you not to fuck with these people huh?”

She was about to hit the back of his head, but he quickly walked away, knowing that she would never give him any useful information. Entering the room he was forced to share with both his sister and her three months old son, Harry was trembling, almost too afraid to ask about the “rich snobs”. But he had to. He was just hoping William didn't find out.

“What's happening?” He asked his sister, whom he hated a little less than his mother, already looking in his wallet for a ten dollars bill, knowing that she would never talk for free. She hungrily grabbed the bill, almost tearing it and stuffed it in her chest, before smirking. “Somebody came asking about you, today. At the station.”

Emily, Harry's sister, worked as a secretary's substitute in the police station nearby. “Y' know how much they gave me to keep my mouth shut? A hundred. And then, they gave me another hundred to look at your file. You're in deep shit.” She spoke as if she was cracking a joke, laughing at the end as if Harry's safety didn't matter to her -not that it did, but it should-.

“Who were they?” Harry's voice was worried, scared, and he felt like crying. Harry was ashamed of his file. It was full of petty crimes, nothing too serious, but still, it was nothing to be proud about. Harry already guessed that Louis was just waiting to gather enough proofs about Harry's true identity before telling his father, but still, he wanted to make sure it was him.

“The guy gave me a hundred. You expecting me to tell you gratos?”

Harry sighed in frustration.

“You know I don't have a hundred.”

“Too bad.” She shrugged carelessly, not bothered the slightest by her son's desperate crying. “He was short. Blue eyes, kinda tan, wasn't he?” Harry attempted to obtain some piece of information but it was vain. “Oops, I suddenly can't remember.” She scoffed, frustrating Harry more than he already was.

“Please. I'd do anything. Just tell me what he looked like.”

She shut her mouth for a moment, as if thinking about his offer. “You're too much of a little shit to be trusted.” Between her annoying, high pithed voice, the baby's constant crying and the worry building up inside him, Harry felt like going crazy. He needed some air. And he needed to call William, to make sure things were still okay. And also to occupy him for the whole evening, so he wouldn't have the chance to talk to Louis.

It was really a matter of life and death to Harry and he had to react fast.

 

Louis was seriously wondering who the hell Harry Styles really was. After taking a look at his file, he was seriously starting to grow concerned. Spending an average of three months in juvenile per year, since he was ten was worrying. Theft, mostly. So, Louis' father was welcoming a thief with wide arms into his house, and was doubting nothing. Harry must really have some killer charm to fool William so well.

Harry was a fucking criminal and he had to stay away from the Tomlinsons and remain in that fucking hell of a neighbourhood Louis has been to that morning. Going there riding a Range Rover was probably not the smartest idea, but he got out with minor incidents, fortunately. He only had to pay two hundreds in order to see Harry's file, knowing that the greedy secretary would probably spend all that money on drugs -and he wasn't wrong-, and had to refuse the generous offer of a prostitute that approached him, at fucking ten in the morning. Even telling her that he was gay wasn't enough to make her go away, she insisted on sucking the gay out of him, and he found himself forced to give her a fifty bill, just so she would leave him alone.

In Louis' mind, Harry was no different from that prostitute, if not worse. He was only prettier.

Louis seemed to have forgotten about the video, and was now solely focusing on finding out the worst informations he could on Harry, as if the idea of destroying that boy's plans was now becoming a true obsession.

The next step in his little investigation was talking to Alexander. He knew it would be hard, but he had to know more about how much of a low human Harry was.

Louis knocked on Alexander's door twice before the former opened. His curious eyes soon took a blasé look when they saw who the knocker was. He rolled his eyes and tried to close the door, before Louis could even talk, but he was swift enough to block the door using his foot. “We need to talk.”

Without arguing, the sandy-haired boy gave up and accepted Louis' request, much to his surprise. “It's about that little bitch, isn't it?” Alexander spoke, once Louis closed the door after him, making sure to lock it so nobody would interrupt. “Yeah.” Louis breathed, still standing near the entrance, not wanting to envade Alexander's personal space.

“He deserved it and I don't regret it.” Louis just shrugged at his words. “I am not here for the video. I just want to save my father from that scum.” Louis was aware of the fact that Alexander knew about William and Harry's odd relationship, so he didn't feel the need to hide anything.

“Don't worry, he'll soon find somebody wealthier than your dad. He's a greedy son of a bitch.” Alexander's voice was cold as ice. He sat on his bed, the same bed that scene was filmed on. “Are you jealous?” Louis dared to ask, making Alex frown in anger. “I was. Now, I just hate his guts.”

“Was he worth loosing our friendshi-”

“You don't fucking understand!” Alexander suddenly shouted, getting up. “I am not even gay and that boy made me loose my fucking mind! I jeopardized everything for him and he left me for your dad, your dad could be his own dad's age! I was ready to do anything for him and the only thing he wanted from me was money. Fucking son of a bitch.”

Louis cleared his throat. The air felt thick and heavy.

“He's from the south.”

“I knew.”

“You knew?” Louis almost felt disgusted. He'd never imagine himself willingly dating, or falling in love with somebody from the south, especially not after taking a look at that part of the city. “Yup. My weed dealer used him a few times to deliver my stuff.”

“Oh my god.” Louis gasped. “Yup.” Alexander just nodded, knowing that what he did was too reckless for a boy of his condition. “This is- This is a lot.” Louis could only utter, too shocked of Alexander's revelations. “Didn't know you smoked pot.” He then commented, just wanting to make the atmosphere less tense.

Alex just shrugged, but the true thing was, he tried pot once, decided that the delivery boy was indeed cute, and started buying the pot just in hopes to see the boy again. Alexander who was as straight as an arrow, found himself jacking off to the thought of the cute, anonymous boy on his knees for him. Harry was only sixteen at that time.

“It's rubbish. I just wanted to be cool and stuff. Peer pressure.”

They both simultaneously sighed.

“My dad doesn't know about Harry. He thinks he's some lawyer's son.” Louis was really hoping to hear some piece of advice from an old, experienced friend. “Just tell your dad if he's not already in too deep.” That was exactly what he wanted Alex to say. Louis smiled and thanked him, hoping that this little discussion might also be a fresh start for them.

Getting out, Louis had to lie and answer Niall's curiosity about the video. “I didn't hear my name, don't know where you got that from.” He knew that his answer was pathetic, but Louis had a reputation to maintain. “I heard Richardson made the video.”

“It was in his room, yup, but it's not him.” Richardson also had a reputation, Louis thought.

 

Unfortunately, Louis' father was absent for the week-end. His sudden and unplanned trips were a routine for Louis. He didn't worry much and knew that he had to tell everything to William once he'll return. However, things didn't go as planned when a certain somebody passed by saturday evening.

Louis heard three gentle knocks on his door, and thinking it was a maid, gave them permission to enter. It was the last person Louis was expecting to see. Harry, looking more beautiful than ever, in a silk designer shirt, tight stripped pants and daim slippers. Louis' face dropped, as if he had seen a ghost. He knew better than to confront that scum.

“My dad's in Chicago.” Louis mumbled, trying to keep a bored, unfazed expression. Harry gave him a small smile, his full lips curling gently, before stepping inside the room and closing the door after him. “Actually I am here to see you.” His voice was honey-like, so sweet, so pure, so innocent.

“Oh, and why is that?” Louis sat up on his bed, raising his eyebrows, trying to feel confident. Harry's eyebrows fluttered. His smile widened. His dimples popped up. “I thought you'd be feeling lonely.” He made small steps towards the bed, his hands crossed behind his back, to make himself seem unthreatening.

“Just drop the act. I know what you are.” Louis 'words actually did the opposite of what he intended. They amused him. “And what am I?” By the time he ended his question, Harry was so close to the bed, he decided to sit, leaving only a few inches of space between the both of them. “A-A thief.” Louis muttered, but his confidence was long gone. Harry's presence did something to him. It scared him, intimidated him, impressed him. It was too conflicting.

“That's not a nice thing to say.” Harry didn't seem mad, quite the contrary. Louis swallowed hard when the younger boy shifted closer to Louis. Their faces were dangerously close. Harry's hard gaze maintained contact with Louis' until the former broke it. “I don't think I gave a good impression of myself the last time.” Harry breathed in a sensual, taunting voice, before biting on his lips, his eyes darting towards Louis' mouth.

“And I wanted to apologize.” Harry added in a whisper, that sounded so dangerously desirable that it made Louis' cock twitch. “I know you think I'm bad, don't you?” Harry added, as Louis remained frozen. He couldn't even react to Harry's hand slowly making its way to his thigh. “But I can show you how good I can be.” Harry's face inched closer. His lips were almost touching the stubble on Louis' face.

“How good I can make you feel.”

Louis was petrified but he finally reacted by jolting up. “You are sick.” He shouted, trying to get as far away as he could from Harry, who remained in his place, a sick, satisfied grin on his face. “And you're hard.” He smiled, making Louis feel ashamed of his body, that succumbed so easily to one or two flirty words from Harry.

“Get out.” Louis yelled, poiting the door with his index finger. “I know you want me. Stop lying to yourself.” Harry's tone was so soft, yet so dangerous. “Get. Out!” Louis repeated, knowing that this was a part of some twisted game Harry was trying to play. And, no, Louis will not play along.

“You're missing out.” Harry giggled, before standing up, knowing that it was time to leave. “I'll be in your dad's room if you need me.” Louis was trying to object, to tell him to fuck off and come back to that dumpster of a neighbourhood, but he didn't want to engage in a longer conversation with him.

 

Louis locked himself in his room the entire evening, and even called one of the maids to have dinner served in his room. He didn't want to leave it, knowing that Harry would be wandering outside, ready to jump on Louis again, like he did, not only a few hours ago.

At ten, the staff left, leaving the two boys alone, much to Louis' displeasure. He was so afraid, that he would go check if his door was locked every half an hour. He was still chocked, not believing that Harry tried to buy his silence by offering sex to him. It was just so cheap, and made Louis despise him even harder.

But again, every time Louis would think of what happened, he'd feel the same tingle in his abdomen, and remember Harry's body in that video and Alexander's words. For a few minutes, he let his mind wander, thinking of the ways Harry could try and please him- No. Louis had to stop forgetting about Harry's true identity. A liar, a thief, a prositute. Harry was the lowest of the low. Louis couldn't mix with him, and didn't even want to anyway.

“ _How good I can make you feel.”_

Louis' mind kept rewinding those words, making him unable to focus on anything else.

“Maybe I should go and negociate with him.” Louis finally thought, but really, it was just his hormones going completely crazy over the pretty boy. He decided to have a civil conversation with Harry, tell him that he should leave and for that, Louis wouldn't speak. He won't tell his father about his identity or the advances. But Louis was lying to himself and he knew it.

He tried to be brave, tried to stop thinking about how hot Harry's words, Harry's appearance, Harry's everything was, and knocked at his father's door. Fuck. That was a bad idea. Louis should've never left his room. Worst idea ever. He knew Harry wouldn't give up his game. Of course he'd open wearing only underwear -and fortunately, boxers, not some ridiculous panties-, and even thought Louis has already seen Harry's package -which was quite impressive, he had to admit- in the video, he was still feeling odd being so close to an almost nude stranger.

“I am here to talk.” Louis spoke sternly.

“Sure.” Harry snickered, making a few steps bakwards and letting him in. Louis cleared his throat. “I know you're afraid I might tell my father something.” Louis begun, turning his back to Harry whose back stayed on the door. “Oh, I am not trust me. I know you won't.”

“If you promise to leave him.” Louis carried on, not caring about the younger boy's confident words. “I won't say a word.” Louis tried to sound severe and confident. “You're hot when you're bossy.”

“I am serious.” Louis turned around, confused about what to do. In a twisted, sick way, he wanted to take advantage of the situation, but the reasonable part of him knew that he couldn't. It was immoral, wrong, disgusting. “I am sure your company is more enjoyable than your dad's.” Harry's eyes were seductive, poisonous.

“I am only here to talk, so please, listen to me.” Louis tried to control his senses. “You're only doing this to have something against me. You know I have too much information against you.” Louis raised his voice. “Yes. And what can go wrong with that?”

“You clearly don't want to cooperate.” Louis stated.

Harry only smiled, playing with the elastic band of his boxers, and adding to Louis' frustration. “You have no respect for yourself.” Louis spat before passing by him, giving him a disgusted glance and getting out of the room. By the time he made it to his own bedroom and made sure he locked his door, his blood was pumping fast in his lower body, hardening his cock.

And Louis might or might not have thought about Harry's offer when he relieved himself in the shower that night.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

The night has been quite odd for Louis. He was almost certain the last wet dream he had was more than five years ago, so he felt quite embarrassed when realizing that he spent the whole night fantasizing about Harry's pretty lips around his cock. He couldn't give up. It was exactly what Harry wanted. He wanted Louis wrapped around his finger, and the only way he could think of was the seductive card. Louis couldn't deny that it worked, and faster than he'd like to admit, but still he wasn't giving up. That boy was pure poison and Louis had to get rid of him.

Waking up, he yawned quietly and stretched his arms before finally trying to open his lids. For a second, he thought he might still be stuck in his dreams when a cherubic face with a dazzling smile was the first thing he saw after unlocking his eyes. He blinked for a few times more, before literally jumping out of his bed, compeltely creeped out.

“Well, good morning to you too.” Harry giggled, but his joke was far away from Louis' taste. “How did you even-” Louis started but immediately closed his mouth when realizing that the more he talked, the deeper he'll get. The best thing was to ignore Harry. “Do you think a lock would stop somebody from the south?” Harry answered Louis' unfinished question, nonetheless.

Louis ignored the boy that has gotten quite comfortable on his own bed, wearing what seemed to be feminine pyjamas, made out of pale pink fabric. Its tank top had “baby doll” written on it in white, bold characters, and the shorts were so tight and small, the curve of Harry's ass was apparent. He had a smug smirk on his face, a smile Louis hated because it made him feel as if everything was going following Harry's plan. A plan he thought he figured out, but was constantly doubting.

“Morning wood, huh? Had some sweet dreams?” This is the second time Harry would shamelessly stare at Louis' cock and notice his hard, and Louis would certainly not make a habit out of it. He quickly made his way to his private bathroom, wanting to avoid further embarrassment. That boy was unbelievable.

“I can take care of that.” Harry raised his voice the moment the bathroom's door slammed, then Louis could hear his childish giggle.

Louis did his best to stay as long as he could inside the bathroom, hoping that the little shit would just grow bored and go away. He washed his face, brushed his teeth and hopped in the shower. However, the shower wasn't as relaxing as he wished for it to be. Louis kept worrying about Harry's presence and thinking of how he could put an end to Harry's constant harrassment.

Meanwhile, Harry was still on top of the bed, a smug smirk on his face. His intentions were clear because his last resort was obvioulsy the slut card and he was not leaving the house until he had Louis under his mercy. However, he found himself having fun and genuinely smiling at the way Louis looked so embarrassed, refusing to admit that Harry was the reason behind his boner. Admiring the spacious, grand room with the minimalistic black and white décor, Harry noticed Louis' phone on the wooden desk right in front of him, next to his a bunch of notebooks.

Harry pursed his lips before getting up. He walked fast and grabbed ahold of the golden Iphone. The password was a lazy, easy 0000 that Harry guessed on the first try. And of course, Harry texted himself a few heart emojis, to piss Louis off and to have his number, knowing that it could come in handy some day or another.

He was about to put the phone down and return to his place, wait patiently for Louis to open the second door of his room, but he felt it vibrate at the very last moment and decided to answer, as soon as he saw the caller's name. “Hi, Charly.” Harry spoke in the most enthusiastic, sweetest voice ever. A long moment of silence followed.

“You're not Louis.” The caller answered, their accent, a little bit too heavy for Harry's taste. “Ten points to Gryffondor, aren't you a smartie?” Harry's tone was now sarcastic, and he was feeling the girl's anxiousness raise. She was probably so confused. “Who are you?”

“A family friend.” Harry answered vaguely. “Can you pass me Louis, then?” Oh, there she goes, with the angry tone. “No need to be rude.” Harry faked an offended tone. He giggled silently when he heard her let out a frustrated sigh. “How the fuck am I rude?” She suddenly yelled and her high pitched voice made him distance the cellphone from his ear. He waited for a brief second before talking again.

“Can you pass me Louis, _please_? Young lady.” He corrected her sentence. Harry had a feeling she'd hang up in less than a few. “What the-” A third surprised voice took part in their conversation, amusing Harry even more. He turned around, smiled to Louis before handing him the phone, as if it were nothing. He has such weird reactions, Louis noticed during the few moments he had spent in Harry's presence.

“Get out.” Louis mouthed, tightening the knot of his bathrobe's belt before furiously grabbing the telephone. Harry only bit his lips before making himself comfortable, sitting on top of the desk, shivering at the way the cold material felt against his smooth skin. Louis huffed in annoyance.

“Who is it?” He spoke right into the speaker. “Louis!” The girl finally breathed. Louis let out a long sigh too, actually relieved that it was just his younger sister, Charlotte. “Hi, sweetie.” He spoke with a much calmer voice, turning his back to Harry and getting the hell out of his own room where he couldn't talk in private anymore. As if it wasn't enough, Harry chose to follow him through the house, acting like a fucking kid.

“Who was that?”

“Nobody.” Louis quickly spoke, and Harry faked a loud gasp, as if offended. “I am not nobody, excuse yourself. Tell her who I am.” Harry raised his voice, loud enough for the girl to hear. “He's so obnoxious.” She commented. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“No, actually, he's a- a maid's son.” Of course Louis was ashamed to say that Harry was their dad's boyfriend, sugar baby or whatever his label was. He didn't have much time to end his sentence before the phone was snapped from his hand, startling him for a short moment. “Oh, I am not, you liar.” By that time, they had already reached the stairs, and Harry even outran Louis, to come and stand on the first stair, finally adjusting to Louis' height. How serious his face was scared Louis more than it should.

“Give me my phone back.”

After a challenging glance, Harry shifted closer to the stair's edge, locked eyes with Louis before letting the phone slip from his hand, ending several feet lower. “Oops.” Louis even heard the screen crack and stood speechless for a moment, just staring at Harry, asking himself if he had some brain inside him. Why would he even do such a thing? There was no point, absolutely none. It's like he just wanted to do it, just to anger Louis who, this time, didn't care if it was Harry's plan or not, and seriously grew angry.

“What the f-” Harry only rolled his eyes, not bothering listening to Louis' speech, and was already on his way back to William's room. “What was this even about?” Louis yelled, and it was now his turn to follow Harry's steps, and compared to Harry's long, lean legs, Louis' legs were not that fast. “I am talking to you!” Harry didn't turn around, or even talk, he just carried on walking through the long corridor, towards the double door at the very end, which he opened then locked after him.

“You're buying me a new phone, just so you know!” Louis shouted, in a failed attempt to gain his attention. He cursed under his breath when all he was met with was silence. Louis knocked on the wooden door angrily, his fists curled in a ball, until the side of his palm started hurting. “For fuck's sake.” He blurted out in frustration, realizing that what he was doing was uttely pointless. That boy clearly had some serious issues and Louis would not waste his time with him.

When he was about to come back to his room, to get dressed and leave the fucking house, the door opened, revealing an expression of impatience on Harry's face. “What?” He asked -ironically, Louis hoped-, with his hand on his hip and a frown on his forehead.

Louis wanted to say something, but he found himself speechless, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? He couldn't think of a single thing. “I am not a maid's son.” Harry blurted out of the blue, and it almost made Louis laugh. Was this all about Louis' white lie? If it were the case, then boy really had something wrong going on inside his head. Because at least, being a maid's son is normal, respectable, plain, and he should be thanking Louis for saying that instead of “Oh, just dad's gold-digging boyfriend”.

“That thing costs almost a grand, you know that, don't you?”

“Oh, poor you. You can't afford a new one. You're so cheap.” Harry rolled his eyes, his tone sarcastic and obnoxious. “So what if I can afford a new one? What kind of logic are you even following?”

“Is there some kind of problem?” A timid voice asked from behind Louis, while Harry's eyes slowly trailed to the intruder. “No. You can dispose.” The latter coldly spat, not even leaving the chance for Louis to check on whom it might be. “Sir- hum- Louis, your phone-” Louis let out a long sigh, recognizing the maid's actual son's voice, and who was also his father's driver. “It's okay, Liam.” Louis calmly spoke, without even facing the boy. He swore he heard Harry's teeth grit when the man obeyed Louis instead.

When Louis couldn't hear the man's steps anymore, and Harry's green irises finally focused on him again, Louis made the reckless decision of entering his father's bedroom and try to sort things, in an attempt to stop this hell. If Louis had to choose between clingy, slutty Harry and crazy, bitchy Harry, he'd definitly go for the first one.

“I don't recall giving you permission to enter.” Louis brushed Harry's nonsense off, because he clearly didn't need his permission, since it was Louis' house before Harry's. What the hell? It wasn't even Harry's house. Fuck, that boy was delusional, thinking that the house was his property just because he's been spending some time in it. “I. Am. Talking. To. You.” When angry, Harry clearly despised being ignored. Fearful that he might get physical like last time, Louis decided that it would be better to answer him.

He finally faced him and was met with only anger swimming in those almost pure green irises. “Just say what you want from me. I can't stand you, honestly.”

It was as if his words had a soothing affect on Harry. His expression suddenly went neutral. He was thinking. “You can't tell your father. But I can't trust you with not telling him. So I'll be up your ass twenty-four seven, until...” A smirk slowly krept to his face. “... Until I'll have you literally up my ass.”

Louis let out a sigh.

“Look, you're trying to find something to blackmail me with. You're never finding anything against me. And I will never touch you. Never. So just give up already.”

Harry's eyes widened, giving him an even more innocent look he surely didn't deserve. “Why not?” His question was just too bold for Louis to deal with. When you reject somebody, they rarely ask the reason behind the rejection, but Harry clearly wasn't ready to give up. “I'm not pretty enough for you? Or maybe is it because I'm not of your level? Just say it, you don't want to fuck a boy from the south. Well, your father does- You're not better than him-”

Okay, well now, Louis knows what's up with Harry. Some next level deep inferiority complex. Because how could he not think about the one true reason behind Louis' rejection? The moral one, the fact that he held enough respect for his father not to betray him and actually fuck his boyfriend. How could this not even go through Harry's mind? Of course, there was the fact that he was from the south, that, Louis can't deny it, but still, it was less valid than morals. Freaking morals that Harry obviously lacked.

“I don't want to touch my dad's boyfriend. That's just common sense.”

“I won't tell anybody.” Harry's voice was small as he awkwardly rocked his hips in a slow motion, his hands behind his back, looking at Louis desperately. “It's like asking me to throw myself of a cliff. And I will tell my father if you don't leave him.”

Harry was feeling more threatned than ever, Louis could tell. His toes were anxiously curling while he thought of something to say. “And even your plan of getting me to- have sex with you was stupid. So, just- just go.”

Harry swallowed hard as he stared intensely at the boy standing in front of him. He thought of jumping on him, make his back fall on the matress behind him then just let Harry's sensual charm do its magic, but Louis' words held some kind of truth. Even if they had sex, it should be filmed or somebody has to walk on them if he wants to hold it against him, because without something to prove Louis' betrayal, it would only be a waste of time.

“Thanks for ruining my life.” How typical of a teenager to say. “Now, if you can leave, I'd like to pack my things without your presence.”

 

Louis left the house before Harry. He even dismissed the staff before getting out, and made the regrettable decision of leaving Harry alone. What is the worst thing he could do? Steal something? Let him steal. Louis couldn't care less.

However, Louis underestimated Harry's mind.

When he returned home, it was night-time and he was surprised to see an ambulance and a fire-truck, on top of two police cars and loads of people in uniforms standing in the house's frontyard. Louis frowned. With a mouth wide open in surprise, he slowly climbed out of his car and went over towards a familiar face.

“Liam, what's happening?” Louis asked, still startled and somewhat frightened by the strangers in uniforms surrounding him. Liam didn't talk, but just the way his eyes moved, as if wanting to show Louis something, was enough. Something, or more like, someone.

As soon as Louis turned around, he saw, for a starter, his father, then Harry sitting at the back of an ambulance, and also a nurse talking to them. Harry was wrapped in a white blanket, leaning his head against the inside of the ambulance, and Louis was honestly baffled. The way Harry's face was red, with quivering lips and trembling limbs was just outstanding. He should be a fucking actor, because everybody was buying his act, and even though Louis didn't even know what happened, he already guessed that it was fake. Everything Harry did was fake.

“Dad?” Louis, almost timidly, approached his father, doing his best not to make any eye contact with the younger boy, even though he was feeling his eyes on him. “Louis!” His father sighed, worry clear on his face. The older man wrapped a friendly arm around his confused son.

“What's happening?”

“A fire started inside the house while Harry was there.” His father was out of breath. “W-What?” Louis was astonished. “It started in your room- You forgot a lit candle-” His father didn't have much effort to speak. He must be tried, flying all the way from Chicago then hearing that your house is burning down was tough. “I-I don't-” Louis was about to start, but as his eyes drifted lower, towards Harry's direction, he could see a satisfied expression on Harry's face.

Louis never uses candles. Harry probably fucking loves them. And Harry started the fire, of course. Louis should've seen something like this coming. The way Harry reacted a few hours ago was too peaceful to be true.

However, Louis didn't understand why, again. How would he benefit from burning the house down? It would buy him, as a maximum, a day before Louis decides to tell his father. “The smoke detector didn't work?” He received a negative answer from his father.

“We will be staying at a hotel tonight. Are you feeling alright, Harry?” The younger boy nodded weakly, as if really buying into his own act. Louis wanted to scream “Bullshit” at the top of his lungs. “Will you come with us?” William then asked his son. “N-No.” Louis didn't want to spend another second in Harry's company. That boy was a fucking psychopath.

They left in a matter of minutes.

After that, Louis went to have more clarifications from Liam, who would probably be more informative than any of the officers. “What the hell?” Louis only asked in a sigh, while Liam shrugged, as if unable to believe what happened either. “I can't wrap my head around it either.”

They slowly walked towards the backyard, where they'd be finally alone.

Liam then narrated everything. He was charged of picking up William from the airport. He came at the house but didn't enter, only took the car and left. Mid-road from the airport, while William was with him, the latter received a phone call and looked like he might die. He immediately called 911 and asked for Liam to speed up. When they arrived, Harry was already receiving a nurse's care. Harry refused to talk to the police officers and William did it instead, making sure not to reveal Harry's identity.

“He started the fire. I am certain.” Louis declared, almost relieving Liam, who was probably thinking the same thing. “I-I was suspiscious too.”

“Eh, well, at least, he was wearing normal clothes and not some pink, girl's pyjamas.” Louis rolled his eyes, making Liam laugh. Louis giggled too. “Hey, Liam, do you mind if I ask you something? A personal something?” Liam only nodded, probably worried about the sudden seriousness.

“Like, please, don't take it as an offense-” Louis started, not wanting to offend another person from the south, or so he guessed, because the people working for the upper class were probably all from the south. “It's okay.”

“You're from the south, right?” Liam nodded, holding no shame in his answer. “Harry is from the south too.” Louis spoke and Liam's eyes bulged, almost falling out from their places. “Quite the shock, huh?” Louis didn't know if he could trust Liam with something like this, but he felt like he had to tell somebody, or else he'll probably burst.

“Wow.”

“You've never seen him before?” Liam shook his head, his mind still confused. “He lives in Bel Air avenue.” Louis actually giggled when saying that because naming an avenue in the south Bel Air was an oxymoron in itself. “Bel Air? That's like- the south of the south.” If something was worse than the south, it was probably the south of the south. It meant that even people in the south had this kind of social segregation, as if the place where Harry lived was lower than anything possible, and it was scary.

“Wow.” Liam repeated, still baffled. “Like- How did he even- What is- Oh Lord, I am so sorry- I am just so surprised-” Liam was probably feeling feverish after Louis' confession. But he was not at the end of his surprise. “Harry Styles, a boy from Bel Air pretending to be Harry Ford, a lawyer's son.”

There was a minute of silence.

“Styles?”

The way Liam said it actually frightened Louis.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Harry's last name is Styles?” Liam asked again, as if he couldn't believe his ears. “Yeah, why?” Louis frowned. He was already expecting the worst. “The psychopath who shot the people in the church last year, his last name was Styles.” Louis finally recalled hearing about the incident while he was in England, but never paying too much attention. It was just some psycho that decided to make a fucking carnage in the upper class' neighbourhood a year before, driven by jealousy, perhaps, and making twenty one victims. He got death sentence, if Louis recalls well. But the man wasn't old enough to be Harry's father, so he might have been Harry's brother.

That was bad news.

“I didn't even know they had another son- What the hell?”

“Maybe it's not the same people we're talking about.”

“I-I hope so.” Liam stuttered, gulping loudly in what seemed like fear mixed with worry. He always has been suspiscious over his boss' boyfriend, but right now, he was fucking scared.

 

“Are you alright, baby?” Harry enjoyed the attention. No sex, no games, just attention. He nodded slowly before a small tear rolled out of his eye. “It's okay, it will pass. Nothing happened.” Harry didn't talk and only buried his head in William's chest, letting him wrap his arms around him. Harry hiccuped and the small, cute noise did nothing but make the old man's heart fall harder for the teenager.

“This week-end has been shitty.” Harry finally mumbled, feeling William's fingers caress his smooth, long hair. “It's okay, everything will be okay.” William tried to reassure him, not knowing that there was more to come from Harry's imagination. “If I had known, I wouldn't have stayed at yours- It's just that- It's starting to get on my nerves, my mum and dad and their fighting, and my father has been loosing all of his fortune in gambling, and my mum wants to leave-”

A small kiss was placed on Harry's temple in an attempt to calm him. “It's horrible- if-if he really looses everything- I won't even be able to go to college next year.”

“Daddy will send you to college next year, don't worry.” A soft whisper reassured Harry, who of course, had to refuse at first. “No, you already are too generous with me- I can't.” The distance between them increased, enough to leave a small space between them. William's eyes locked with Harry's glossy ones, and he smiled to him. “Shh, none of that bullshit, baby. Your college tuition is on me. No protesting.”

Harry tried to smile, and it was an adorable attempt. His face was red and humid from the crying, and it made William's heart break a little. He didn't like seeing Harry in a bad mood. “Yeah- but, what if- what if we stop seeing each other before next year- No, I have to find a job-” Harry's mouth was shut by a passionate, small kiss. Right after that, William got out of the large bed they were on. Harry's curious eyes followed his boyfriend's motions, who went right to the dressing room, spent less than three minutes in it, then returned to the bed, with a small paper in his hands.

It was a cheque, with a huge amount of money written on it. Too much zeros for Harry's mind to even gather in a small amount of time. “Is this enough for your college?” Harry nodded, his eyes still mesmerized by the number scribbled on the cheque. “So, it's yours.” He then handed the piece of paper to Harry whose arms were trembling, and this time, it was not even fake. He has never held so much money in his hand, and never even dreamed of it.

Harry's reaction pleased William.

“So, now, you won't have to worry about college anymore.”

Harry's shocked expression soon turned into a wide grin, before he jumped into William's arms thanking him and kissing every spot he could find. “You're the best daddy ever.” Harry then whispered, tears of joy replacing those of sadness and worry.

Needless to say that the night has been heated for the both of them., because, obviously, Harry had to thank William in one way or another. His body was the only thing he posessed, so he offered it to William for the everning.

And after the older man drifted to sleep, Harry couldn't stop smiling, giggling to himself like a little girl. With the money William gave him, Harry could leave the entire city and go somewhere else to live like a king. He still had some technical difficulties, though, because the cheque was at Harry Ford's name, but it wasn't hard for him. He'd convince William to give him cash money instead of a cheque, that way it will be easier to handle.

After sorting out his new plan, Harry knew that there was another detail he had to sort. Hoping that Louis already purchased a new phone and kept his old number, he called him and went to the bathroom so he could speak freely. To his biggest relief, it was the case and Louis answered with a sleepy voice.

“Who's-Who is this?” He spoke, obviously surprised at the stranger calling him at fucking three in the morning. “Try fucking with me one more time, and I'll make sure you're inside your room when the house burns down.” Then, Harry hung up.

And Louis was too frightened to go back to sleep, that night. He knew better than to think that the threat was an empty one. He knew what the Styles were capable of, and obviously, madness ran in the family.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited and kinda boring, I apologize.  
> Also, my updates may get slower :(
> 
> And to clear things up, because I feel they might get confusing:  
> Louis used to live in the USA then his parents divorced when he was in highschool. He went to live in London with his mum. He started uni there but came to the USA to continue (it's like student exchanges, and they're compulsory (where i live at least, so)) and the city or the state where they are will not be revealed bc I have no idea about it myself.  
> AND THIS IS SOOOO BORING BUT I PROMISE there might be SOME CHICA BOOM BOOM in the following chapters.

 

 

When Harry was in a good mood around his family, he always had to hide it or else, they'd do anything to ruin it for him. So, as soon as he entered the tiny flat they all shared, his smile disappeared, a frown settled on his forehead and he was ready to attack anybody willing to provoke him. His parents were crashing on top of that same couch and the fact that they were just laying, not saying a word, not complaining, not giving Harry a hard time gave away the fact that some kind of drug just sent their minds to a whole other word. From the needle resting on top of the table, he guessed it might be heroin.

He didn't give it much attention and immediately went to his room, where his sister was sleeping, her snores as loud as William's. Harry hated when people snored. Actually, Harry hated people, them snoring would be just an extra reason for him to despise them more.

Emily's baby was awake, and laid on Harry's bed peacefully. The former didn't appreciate seeing his bed occupied, without his permission. Since he never interacted with the three months old, Harry didn't exactly know how to deal with him, so he tried, not as gently as he should, and lifted the baby, only wrapping an arm around his tiny body, before putting him next to his mother, who was soon awakened by the high-pitched crying.

Seeing Harry in front of her, she immediately guessed that he was the reason behind her toddler's crying and it infuriated her, because she has spent the entire night trying to put him to sleep, and deserved some rest before her shift started at noon. “Asshole!” She groaned, throwing whatever she found next to her -it was only a shirt, fortunately- at him.

He didn't care for her, thinking that nothing could spoil his mood, but otherwise, they'd be wrestling by now. The amount of times they'd gotten physical to the point of bruising one another wa too high to even count, and despite all of their arguments, Emily was the person Harry despised the least in that house. If he could kill people without facing any consequences, Emily would certainly not be at the top of his list. He'd also surely give her a quick, painless death. She wasn't as awful as she appeared to be.

Harry sat on his bed, took off his hood then ran a hand through his smooth, chocolate curls whose length was almost the same as his sister's. “Go cut your hair or something, you look like a fucking girl.” Harry rolled his eyes at her comment, but even harder when she tried to shush her kid all while lighting up a cigarette. If his sister, who was a hundred times more decent than their mother was smoking so heavily next to her child, Harry didn't even want to think of what his mum did when he was just a toddler.

“Don't you have highschool, pussy?”

“Don't you have a job to go to, bitch?” If she could, she'd probably throw the baby at him for calling her a bitch, but she had enough sense in her to just grit her teeth and mumble some insult under her breath. “You're not going to highschool, then?” She asked again.

He didn't answer, knowing that she'd ask him to babysit her son if she knows he'll be staying at home. “I am talking to you! Why you gotta be such a pain in the ass, for fuck's sake!” Her voice went a little too high and that was it for him. He started regretting not staying at the hotel, but then again, he has spent too much time away from his house and didn't want them to grow suspiscious over his escapades. “I am leaving in a few.”

“D'you have twenty bucks?”

“Piss off.” He only muttered as an answer, despite knowing that she needed the money to pay their old neighbour who took care of her baby when she wasn't around. But, honestly, Harry couldn't care less about that baby. “I'll give them back to you, it's not a favour, dickhead.”

“I don't have anything on me.” He lied. “And where's the money that rich prick gave you, huh?” He spoke while he stood up, ready to leave the house again, because he honestly couldn't stand its atmosphere. It was just suffocating. “Mum took it.” Emily answered, after a long silence and a few drags out of her cigarette, with a small voice, as if ashamed of admitting it.

“Well, you're the pussy for letting her take it, then.” Harry simply shrugged, not feeling an ounce of pity or compassion. “I am asking for twenty bucks to feed my kid and pay his babysitter. I know you have enough money on you, but you're just as cruel as all of them.” The moment those words left her mouth, she could hear his teeth grit. It wasn't long before he almost threw himself at her, his hand wrapped around his chin, in a forceful, brutal manner. “I am nothing like them.” He slowly spoke, through tense jaws, as his eyes poured all of their anger into her, as if staring intensely into her damaged soul.

She didn't try to fight him. One of her arms was wrapped around the baby, holding him tightly, the other was too busy making sure not to burn anything with her cigarette. “And your fucking kid, your fucking problem. Nobody asked you to get fucking pregnant.”

His grip on her face was so tight it started hurting. He finally let got of her, giving her one last dirty glance before leaving, and of course, taking his backpack with him. That backpack, if lost or found by somebody else, would probably be the death of Harry. It contained everything about his double identity. The fancy clothes he wore around William, the lipstick, the nail polish, the expensive phone, the fragrance, even fucking lingerie, and the most important of them all, the money. A five hundred grands check was not something he could hide easily.

Leaving the rotting building he lived in, Harry walked a few feet, with his hood on, making him blend into the landscape, before spotting a familiar face. He stopped right in his tracks, slipped his hand in his jeans' pocket, looking for his pocket knife as he saw a thin, lean figure approach him, with a suspiscious smirk over their face.

“Harry, my friend, long time, no see!” His tone was as sarcastic as it could get. “What do you want?” Harry mumbled, his face serious, which made the brown skinned boy laugh, throwing his hands in the air, as if showing that he was harmless. “Just got out of jail, came by to tell you your brother says hi. He's waiting for the- pscht” The man mimicked a needle inserted through his veins, reminding Harry of his brother's death sentence, by lethal injection. “I don't care.” His tone was cold and his eyes threatening.

“You know he's worried about you, especially.”

“Zayn, I said I don't care.” Harry was ready, at any time, to brand his pocket knife and use it on somebody, on anybody. “Alright, chill out.” The man, Zayn, as Harry called him, made another two steps towards Harry, only leaving a very short distance between them. He was far too close to Harry's taste. “So, where are you going?” Zayn didn't want to engage small talk with him and Harry knew that he had something else in mind.

“None of your business.”

“You interested in making some cash?” Harry knew it. He fucking knew Zayn would want Harry to deliver something for him. Harry didn't need any money, he had enough, but once you grew up money thirsty and greedy, you'll always be. Harry could be shitting diamonds and he'd still find a way to need more, it was now rooted deep inside him, hence his positive answer. “Yeah.” He mumbled, his hand relaxing around his pocket knife, that he always carried with him around, whenever he was in the southern area. And despite knowing that he didn't need to use it around Zayn, he still had the reflex of grabbing it the moment he saw him. It was a reflex, he was like a felid ready to show its claws once it senses the smallest danger, because it was either kill or die in the jungle.

And it was either kill or die in the south, too.

“That prissy frat house, they need some stash for their stupid Halloween party, man.”

“Ok.” Harry mumbled, unimpressed, because he has done that too many times. And some, if they were Harry's place would probably feel uncomfortable going back to that house, that same house where he has been forced to do things he didn't want to do, where he has lived a real-life nightmare, but it didn't matter to him. He got over it pretty quickly. Nothing traumatized him anymore. Also, it would be an occasion to meet Louis and piss his rich ass off, so why not?

“You'll have twenty percent.”

“Fifty.” Harry didn't like to negociate, he deserved more because he was doing most of the job. Knowing better than to fuck with a Styles, Zayn just shrugged, and nodded. “Deal. Saturday, come at mine, noon and no jokes. You tell the police and you're dead.” It was just the routine threat, and Harry gave Zayn a blasé look, as if Harry would really want to cooperate with the police to fight drugs.

“Oh, and tell your sis I said hi.” Zayn laughed before passing his way. Harry understood but did nothing about it. He guessed that Zayn was the baby's father, that he abandonned his sister the moment he knew she was pregnant -or maybe did he go to jail around that time?-. Anyway, that was none of Harry's business.

He was about to carry on walking when he spotted a vehicle parked in the corner of a narrow street. It was an old, black chevrolet that he has never seen around. He looked intensely at its direction, before smirking. He could sense panick slowly raising inside the car as he crossed the avenue, ready to say hi.

“Oh shit.” Louis mumbled, knowing that he has been spotted. He quickly hid his camera under the backseat, and started the car, ready to drive away. And of course, to his luck, the car which Louis wasn't at all familiar with, decided to simply stop working. Understanding nothing to old-fashioned cars, Louis quickly gave up and just waited for what seemed like his death sentence.

He heard a knock on the window.

Louis blinked a few times. He judged wiser not to create a scene in a place like the one he was in, so he simply unlocked the door. The first thing he head was a satisfied sigh. Louis didn't even dare turn around, certain that the smallest faux pas might actually cost him his life.

“So you're stalking me now?”

His voice wasn't angry, like he expected it to be. It was amused, sweet, almost comforting. Anyway, Louis had literally no excuse to why he was sitting in a car a few feet away from the building where Harry lived.

“I mean, I knew you'd fall under my spell, but not this hard. You're almost making me blush.” Louis only cleared his throat, before finally letting his eyes land on the boy. He looked so different from the photos he had snapped, as if it weren't the same person. From afar, he looked so bad, so dangerous, but upclose, his smile was too bright, along with his eyes, and let Louis not even talk about his glowing skin or the beautiful curls at the side of his head.

“I didn't know if we'll be seeing each other again, I-I actually wanted to talk to you.” Louis tried to lie, hiding his true intetions. Taking pictures of Harry living his normal, southern life and anounymously mailing them to William, which will end save his father from the psycho and himself, too. “Oh, really?” The fact that Harry's voice held no trace of sarcasm made Louis skeptical.

“I-I am not telling my father. You don't have to worry about that.” Lousi stuttered, barely managing to talk. “What changed your mind?” Harry said with a big smile, as if genuinely curious about it, but Louis guessed he was sarcastic. “I-I might need to go now.”

“And I need a ride.”

Louis didn't object.

He tried to start the car once again and didn't succeed. He coughed, embarrassed by the situation. “Oh.” Harry only commented, while Louis hoped he could offer help or guide him towards some mechanic, but he did nothing. He was still comfortable in his seat, legs wide apart, arms behind his neck, like a proper macho.

“Since you're not telling your father, then what are the pictures for?”

Louis really did take Harry for some stupid person, didn't he? Of course anybody would've guessed he took pictures. Louis can be a real idiot sometimes.

“If you' wont be jacking off to them then I'd like to see you delete them in front of me.” Now, either Louis had to admit that he was sexually attracted to Harry to the point of taking his pictures and touch himself just watching them -which was silly and extremely unrealistic, if you'd ask him- or risk having Harry burn down the car upon knowing that he was intending on showing the pictures to his dad. The first was humilaiting, the second, a bit risky.

“Shit.” Louis' internal monologue was quickly interrupted when Harry swore under his breath, looking outside of the car with eyes wide, spotting a red dot on the wall of one of the buildings facing them. Despite knowing that there was little chance in them getting hurt, he still wanted to teach Louis a lesson about Bel-Air avenue and why he should never think of returning there.

Louis looked through the glass but saw nothing scary. “Bend.” Harry shouted before he graciously jumped to the back and sat right behind the front seat, while his hand grabbed Louis' arm, urging him to do the same thing. Louis did it, quite clumsily, and he was about to ask what all the fuss was about when he heard the loud roar of a gun, or more of a machinegun, or some war artillery.

Without even fully realizing what was happening around him, Louis' limbs were shaking and he was on the verge of tears. “Don't stress out.” Harry spoke, in the least reassuring and most bored tone ever. Louis gulped then hugged his knees against his chest, trying to follow Harry's impossible advice.

Meanwhile, Harry who was used to these kinds of incidents and was simply waiting for it to stop, curiously lifted the jacket laying on top of the old leather seat to find a camera. He stopped himself from laughing because Louis was honestly acting so stupid. Renting an old car to appear incognito, and taking so much risks only to ruin Harry's relationship with William was beyond dumb.

Fortunately for them, the shootings didn't last very long. Less than five minutes, probably some quick killing spree one of the gangs had to make. In all honesty, Harry has witnessed worse and this was not something heavy or scary.

Harry deleted the pictures then tried to give the camera back to Louis who has still not recovered from what just happened. “W-What was that?” Louis stuttered once he regained full control over his overwhelmed senses. “Nothing to worry about. Anyway, I have to get going. It's always a pleasure seeing you.”

Louis gulped.

“What about me?” Louis asked, grabbing Harry's hand, stopping him from getting out of the car. Harry bit his lips in a twisted, amused manner. Previously sitting on his bottom, he got instead on his knees and slowly approached Louis who was feeling more threatened than ever. Harry's long arm made its way behind Louis' back and his eyes bulged when he felt a large hand grip his backside. His jaw hung, but he didn't have much time to protest before the fingers were removed, and with them, Louis' wallet.

“What do you think you're doing?” Louis whispered angrily, as if he was too afraid to speak up in such conditions. Harry only sighed before taking away every dollar bill he could find in the wallet. “I won't save your life for free.”

“I don't need you to save my life.” He finally had the courage to speak clearly, but was shortly interrupted by a giggle. “I'd like to see you walk out there on your own.” Then his face got more serious, before his hand brutally shoved Louis' chest. “We're not in the north anymore. So stop acting like a pussy and toughen up. You wanna get out of here alive or what?” Louis couldn't believe that those words just came out of the mouth of that same guy that liked to wear silk kimonos and lace panties.

It was simply mind blowing.

“That's what I thought.” Harry carried on when all what Louis did was blink a few times, too astonished to talk. “Now take off your shirt.” Surprisingly, his tone held no sensuality, he was relaly serious about this whole situation. He opened his own backpack and threw one of his own, oversized hoodies for Louis to wear. The former couldn't say he was pleased to wear something as old and dirty looking.

“Unroll your jeans.” Harry ordered and the fact that he didn't even comment on Louis' shirtless body was in itself impressive. This boy had too many facades and Louis couldn't guess which was the real one. When the same hand that was previously on his ass now made it to his hair, he didn't protest and let Harry ruffle his gelled hair before hiding it under the hood of his sweatshirt.

“This should do.” Harry mumbled to himself before getting out of the car, not forgetting about his backpack and the camera. He could always sell it for a good price. Louis timidly followed him, as he felt every inch of his body shiver. They walked through empty, narrow, dirty streets, full of rotting buildings, graffitis and disfigured alley cats. “Where are we going?” Louis dared to ask but was soon relieved when they stepped inside a much more animated street with a supermarket, a McDonald's and some shops. It wasn't luxury, but it wasn't Bel-Air avenue either.

The walked a few feet more before some strairs leading to an underground station. Louis followed Harry like a puppy. The former bought two tickets for them -with the money he stole from Louis, of course- then, they got in the train, that was already waiting for the passengers when they arrived.

Louis finally started breathing normally when realizing that he just escaped a near-death experience. He took off his hood and stood while Harry sat on a bench, not really minding the old people waiting for some gentleman to give them his place. Harry was no gentleman and Louis was feeling ashamed of him for being so distasteful.

Louis, who has only taken the metro in London, once, cringed at every physical contact, feeling like he could throw up at any minute, just at how sweaty everybody was, at how horrible and thick the air felt like. How could people stand taking the underground every day? Louis couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

Not even three stations later, Harry, without any previous warning got up and exited the wagon, leaving Louis alone and astonished, and even more confused about the younger boy's mind. When the doors finally closed, Louis immediately reached for the phone inside his pants' pocket, and called the number he has saved the night before as H.

“Why did you go?” Louis panicked into the speaker as soon as the younger boy answered. “I have highschool.” He replied, calmly. “What about me?”

“You're not a fucking baby anymore.”

“Ok, then- then what about the car? It's not mine.”

Harry only started laughing before hanging up. Louis couldn't get any more stupid, expecting to get the car back, when he left it unlocked near Bel-Air avenue.

 

Harry liked the parties of the frat house. There were always free snacks and nobody cared about who you were. People were too drunk or too high to even notice him. The amount of wallets he has stolen in a frat party was inimaginable. Also, a frat party was where he met Alexander and was introduced to the lavish life style.

Harry was sixteen, Alexander, just eighteen and new to the uni life. To prove himself, he had to buy weed enough to sustain more than twenty people and have it delivered to the house. Alexander was scared to even meet a drug dealer but the moment he laid eyes on the angelic looking boy that had his weed, he felt fucked. Having what you could call a straight up “bro” mentality, Alexander never thought about any boy romantically, before.

He kept calling for more weed, hoping to see the teenager again, but the times he came back were rare. “You wanna get in?” One day, Alexander suggested and Harry seemed hesitant. “Nobody gives a shit if you come, it's okay.” Harry remained silent but followed the blonde boy anyway. “I never caught your name.”

“'S Harry.”

“Cute.”

When Alex gave him a red cup filled with some sour drink, probably some fancy brand of alcohol, Harry soon guessed his intentions. “It's fifty bucks.” Harry blurted when, moments later, a tipsy Alex leaned to kiss those sinful, plump lips. The blonde remained frozen for a moment, processing everything that has happened.

After a few seconds of internal debate, he reached for his wallet and gave Harry what he wanted. In exchange, Alexander, that night received more than a simple kiss.

And they carried on fucking. Sometimes Harry got paid, sometimes not, and slowly but steadily, Alexander fell under the spell of the teenager. He was simply intriguing, had something soft and delicate about him, and managed to look perfect whatever he did.

Soon, the rumour about Alexander dating a southern boy, which was a double desastrous combo, spread and his family, was of course, furious. They never got to meet the boy, though, he soon met somebody else, and it broke his heart. He tried to contact Harry afterwards but it was vain, until he saw him randomly in a mall, and barely recognized him. By then, his love has already turned to hate. He did not see Harry anymore, he saw an asshole to whom nothing mattered but money, sitting in a Saint Laurent shop, with Champagne in his hand, laughing to something an old man sitting next to him was whispering in his ear.

Alexander recognized the old man. He grew even more furious.

He contained his emotions but was already plotting his revenge, a revenge he regretted soon afterwards.

Alexander then tried to call Harry, more than a year after their “break up”, if you could call it like that. Harry answered, and even accepted Alexander's invitation. He never thought the boy was capable of drugging him, raping him and film it, on top of everything.

It just confused Harry, nothing more.

Alexander said he loved him.

People who love you don't hurt you. Not on purpose, at least.

“Harry, I am sorry.” Of course, Alexander was still in charge of the weed. Harry didn't care about him and took a sip of the beer he found on the kitchen's counter. “Harry.” The blonde's voice was weak, almost afraid to speak to the younger, taller boy in front of him.

“Give me the money and take your fucking weed.”

“Please, just listen-”

Alexander's mouth was shut when Harry displayed a sharp knife pocket in front of his eyes. “Talk to me again and I'll slit your throat-”

The door opened, Harry didn't have enough time to react.

“Xander, Niall is- Oh-” Of course, it had to be Louis. “Just the person I've been looking for!” Harry cheered, his voice suddenly changing from hostile to enthusiastic, while he put his knife back in his pocket. Louis only swallowed hard, because he saw the weapon and already knew that the boy was batshit crazy.

Alexander cleared his throat before reaching for his wallet to pay Harry before things got worse. “Here's your money.” Harry opened his backpack, slowly counted the money then threw a transparent bag to Alexander's face before leaving his room, and making sure to take Louis, who was still starteled, with him.

“So, who are you supposed to be?”

How he was trying to chitchat normally, acting as if everything was absolutely normal never failed to amaze Louis.

“I don't do Halloweed costumes.” Louis answered shortly. “Where's your room?” Harry then asked, and Louis knew better than to ask questions. He really didn't wish for more trouble. “This one.” Louis' index finger pointed towards a closed door. Harry gulped once more from the bottle of beer before throwing it behind him, without a care in the world, and entering Louis' room.

“Nice.” Harry only commented, even though the room was quite boring in itself. He urged Louis to enter the room- “Just so you won't be up my ass if something goes missing, I am not here to steal.” Harry justified it. Louis obliged. “I am going to be a sexy cat for Halloween. You should dress up too.”

A sexy cat.

Louis stopped himself from laughing as he sat on his bed, looking at his phone. Harry was unbelievable.

“You still have my hoodie, by the way.” Harry commented as he stood in the corner of the room, his back facing Louis, as he started undressing. And you still have my Burberry sweater, asshole, Louis wanted to answer but didn't want to start an argument. “And you have nice tattoos. You don't seem like the tattoo type of guy. They make you look hot.” Could he just stop talking?

Harry was only in his underpants when his curiousity spoke again.

“And what do you study?”

“I'm in my third year of law.”

There was a long minute of silence. It got so uncomfortable, Louis had to look up to make sure things were okay. Harry stood frozen in place, thinking. He finally bent over, towards his bag and pulled out a metallic headband with two cats' ears on it and put it on. Louis had to admit, he looked cute, kind of.

“You're not going down like this?” Louis then asked, surprise clear in his voice, as Harry stood in nothing but a pair of feminine lace black boxers and his cats' ears on his head. “Do I not look like a sexy cat to you?”

“No, you look like a slut.”

Harry swallowed, as it was really not the answer he wanted to hear. He didn't know why, but the fact that Louis constantly rejected him, bugged him more than it should. He wanted to yell and insult him back, but he only frowned and made a few steps back, took his backpack, not bothering to wear something else, and got out of the room.

If he goes downstairs dressed like that, then he was mental.

Oh, but he did worse.

He knocked on Alexander's door, and a few seconds later, entered, only for Louis to hear, after less than five minutes, the bed of Alex' room squeaking and it bothered Louis more than it should.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is a mytho. Also, he hates his mum very much.

Harry didn't wait for Alexander to invite him in, he immediately barged inside the room after the door has been opened, gripping the older boy's collar and roughly shoving him against the nearest wall. Alexander, at first, was scared, but as soon as Harry's lips crashed against his and he heard a sensual, eager, “Fuck me” being whispered close to his ear, his apprehension became excitement, thinking that Harry really did came back around, that Harry felt something, despite every fucked up thing that happened between the both of them.

However, it was nothing like that.

As soon as they finished, Harry was ready to go. “Does this mean we're on terms?” Alexander dared to ask, and a sarcastic laughter wasn't what he expected. “We'll never be on terms, Xander.” Harry replied softly, as he replaced his cat's ears headband on top of his hair. “I told you I was sorry-”

“I don't give a fuck.” Harry interrupted with a harsher tone.

Alexander remained quiet, asking himself what all of this was about. “So I am just an easy, quick fuck, then?” Harry huffed, clearly annoyed by Alexander getting all sentimental on him. “I am glad you learned your place. Took you quite some time.” Alexander's hands balled into fists, angered by Harry's words.

Harry got out before their small argument went physical. He made sure to slam the door behind him, just to make sure that his point was clear: he has not forgived Alexander yet, and will probably never do. Alexander was lucky though, Harry was not as vindictive as his brother. If it has been the case, he would've been buried ten feet under the ground at the moment.

“I know you're still awake. I just need to get my stuff. Stop being an asshole.” Harry yelled as he knocked on Louis' door and obtained no answer. “It's not that hard to force the door open, you know-” He was interrupted when Louis finally opened. “Take your stuff and get the fuck out of here.” Louis' tone was severe, which made Harry's smile drop. A frown settled on his face, his muscles tensed and he wondered why Louis was angry.

Harry didn't like seeing him angry, for some reason. It actually scared him, as much as he hated to admit it.

“Are you upset or something?” Louis rolled his eyes at the younger boy's question. He didn't answer. He just wanted to avoid him, forever. Never see his face again. “Like- did I do something?” Harry's tone was so genuine, it was disturbing. “I am trying to study and your presence is a bother.” Louis replied coldly, as he sat on his bed again, trying to be as far away as he could from the toxic boy.

“Do you think we can be friends or something? We don't have to hate each other.” Harry suggested and Louis was smart enough to guess that he had something planned, something he couldn't guess. “Please, get out.” Louis spoke through gritted teeth. “I am not. I won't leave until we're on better terms.” Harry smiled, his voice sweet and pure, as he put on the same hoodie he was wearing earlier.

Louis sighed longly. He really, really, really wanted to punch Harry in the face, and if he knew he'd stand a chance, he wouldn't have hesitated to do it. But he shouldn't forget that Harry was armed and pretty big compared to him, so he'll probably end up murdering him, which was too risky.

“So, friends?” Harry asked with a small pout curving the edges of his mouth. Louis tried not to laugh. Harry was being ridiculous. “I'll take your silence for a yes.” Let him think whatever he wants, Louis told himself. “Okay. I'll be downstairs getting drunk. You should, too. It'll be fun.”

“No, thanks.” Louis shortly mumbled as Harry slid his baggy jeans along his thin legs. “Suit yourself.” It was the last thing Harry said before flashing Louis a charming grin and rushing out of his room, taking his bag with him, without noticing that Louis has looked through his things, as if he trusted the boy with his belongings. Louis found nothing interesting, just more proofs regarding Harry's double identity and little games. There was also a loaded gun in his backpack, on top of the pocket knife he has tried to attack Alexander with, a few hours ago.

Honestly, Louis couldn't understand the kind of relationship Harry and Alexander had, but what disturbed him more was the anger, the jealousy he felt when Harry knocked at Alexander's door after hearing Louis' honest comment about his outfit. He wanted to shape this jealousy into something else, maybe frustration over Harry's unexplainable reactions or disgust because of how easy and cheap Harry was, but deep down inside, Louis has already accepted the fact that Harry's charm has already worked on him and that it wouldn't be long before he'd give up the fight, despite it being wrong, on so many levels, mainly because Harry was a fucking psychopath. Him being his father's boyfriend didn't even matter, because it was more alarming to be attracted to somebody who has threatened to kill you than being attracted to your dad's companion.

After failing to focus on his studying and finding himself cautiously scribbling Harry's name on top of his papers, Louis stood up from his chair and idly strolled in the hallways, meeting nobody but drunken couples in horrid costumes, disgustingly making out, almost fucking each other with clothes on. Secretly hoping to see Harry downstairs, he was disappointed, but at the same time relieved when his eyes settled on Alexander alone.

As he started to feel a bit suffocated inside the house, Louis came back to his room, grabbed his wallet and car keys before getting out, wanting nothing more but be away from the deafening music and high people.

His sports car's engine roar echoed loudly through the empty streets of the campus, but it was gradually shut down as his eyes noticed somebody walking on their own, a backpack over their shoulders and cat's ears popping from their wild hair.

A battle ignited inside Louis' mind. He shouldn't stop, shouldn't even aknowledge him. He is heavily armed and crazy. His brother is a mass shooter, for fuck's sake. He shouldn't go anywhere near him.

He slowed down, rolled the passenger's window down and waited for Harry to notice him back. It took him quite long to do so, as his ears were plugged, too busy listening to music, perhaps, as he took small sips from a juice box he probably snatched from one of the frat house's fridges. When Harry finally felt Louis' presence, he turned around, a small frown on his face, before making a few steps backwards, as if hesitating or scared.

“Need a ride?” Louis offered, trying to be as nice as possible. Harry's pursed lips formed an adorable pout as he thought longly of Louis' offer. “What do you get in return?” He asked, suspiscious. “I am just being nice. You wanted us to be friends, right?”

Louis unlocked the doors, knowing that his invitation has been accepted. He didn't understand why Harry was so hesitant, though. “Juice? I thought you were planning on getting drunk.” Harry didn't answer and instead, hugged his backpack against him and remained silent. “I'll drop you at the subway station?”

“Okay.” Harry breathed, but there was something in his voice, that made Louis' heart break a little. He has seen Harry happy, or fake happiness, mad and angry, but never sad and silent. “What's up with you?” Louis couldn't help but ask. “I thought you didn't care about sluts of my kind.” Harry mumbled, hugging his bag tighter. “Let's put that behind, shall we?” Louis smiled.

“Do you want to fuck or what?” Harry then abruptly spoke, destabilizing Louis for a second. “Oh, don't act so surprised. I am not buying your nice guy act. People like you don't...” He didn't finish his sentence and instead squeezed the empty box of what was cranberry juice between his long fingers. “I have made it clear that I don't want to touch you, okay? I am just offering you a ride, s'all!” Louis has had suggestive thoughts about Harry, he couldn't lie and pretend like the image of the green eyed younger boy on his knees for him has never crossed his mind, but he'd never go as far as mixing up fantasies with reality. He really just wanted to be nice.

“What were you listening to?” Louis then asked, after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. When Harry didn't answer, Louis chuckled to himself. “I bet it's some Little Mix or Lana Del Rey, or stuff a thirteen years old girl would listen to.” Harry did not appreciate the joke. “Do you have to make fun of everything I do?”

“Uh... I was just, just joking, no need to be offended.”

“Well, I don't like your humour so keep it for yourself.”

“You were all smiles and friendly not only half an hour ago, your mood swings are crazy!” Before Louis could even finish his complaint, Harry's phone vibrated. The older lad was not surprised to see an old, outdated phone instead of the golden, large iphone he always carried. Upon reading the message he just received, he let a long sigh escape his lips. The message was from his sister and it read: “Were r u??” It was the second he'll receive that evening, the first one being that his mother was in hospital, after overdozing on heroin. It wouldn't be the first time and Harry hoped it would be the last time, as he started praying for her to die the moment he has been informed.

“Do you mind if I make a stop to get gas?” Louis politely asked only earning a careless shrug from the younger boy who seemed long lost inside some storm of thoughts. After leaving the vehicle, Louis entered the station to pay for the oil, only to be co;pletely astonished upon hearing the unmistakable sound of his car's engine and realized that the worst thing he has ever done was trusting Harry with his car. What was he even thinking?

He rushed outside, ready to create a scene when he saw that the car only moved a few inches before stopping. He ran towards the car, opened the driver's door ans grabbed Harry who was sitting behind the wheel, from his wrist, brutally yanking him outside. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” This time, Louis did really not care about the gun, the knife or how strong Harry might be.

“I just wanted to try it, no need to get so mad!”

“Try it? You're unbelievable! But, that's what I get for being nice to somebody like you! Try it, he said! As if I am going to buy it!” Louis spat, but immediately regretted his harsh words once a look of hurt settled on Harry's face. “I just wanted to try it.” He repeated in a small, heart breaking voice that may have been genuine or simply manipulative to earn Louis' sympathy.

“Get in.” Louis then offered, defeated by Harry's act, but the younger lad wasn't about to forgive him so easily. Just like any attention seeker worthy of the name, he refused at first, wanting to hear Louis beg him, just to feel wanted and important. But that was not enough for Harry's ego. Always wanting more and more care and recognition, he wouldn't forget Louis' many rejections so easily.

As if life finally decided to join Harry's side, the moment he was about to get out of the car, he received a third message. “Shes dead” he read and supressed a little smile. His prayers have been answered and now, he could properly play victim.

“I'll see you around, yeah?” Louis asked as he unlocked the door, parked a few feet away from a subway station. When Harry didn't move nor answer, but remained frozen, Louis grew a bit worried. His hand slowly moved over Harry's slightly arched back when he ehar a sob escape the younger boy's trembling lips. “Harry?”

Harry was a brilliant actor. Just how fast tears rolled down his cheeks when in fact he was feeling nothing but pure euphory over the fact that the poisonous presence of that despicable woman would disappear forever from his life, was impressive. He also seeked shelter in Louis' arns, never revealing the reason behind his sudden change of mood and letting Louis figure it out upon reading the message himself.

“Who's dead?” And of course, Harry was too shaken up to answer. His face was already a bright red, his lips quivering and his nose runny, as he supposedly tried to contain his emotions. “P-Please, can we go s-somewhere... somewhere else?” Harry stuttered, his arms still tightly wrapped around Louis who was gently holding him, worried about the state he was in.

 

Of course, Louis was gullible and naive, just like his father, buying into Harry's act without ever questioning him. Louis' case was even worse than his father's, because he knew about Harry's true identity, his history of delinquicy, of lies, or manipulation. But still, he was willing to book a suite for Harry where he could mourn his loss comfortably, surrounded by soft, silky pillows and warm blankets.

He was still crying softly against the golden material of the king size bed sheet as Louis wondered and, probably, already guessed, who the hell died. A family member, somebody Harry loved and was attached to, his mother or grandmother, for certain.

“It's my mom.” Harry suddenly breathes, before straightening his back, finally facing Louis who was sitting a few inches away, at the rim of the bed. “I am truly sorry.” Louis mumbled, uneasy to have to share so much intimacy with Harry, to see him wrecked and crying, to witness this state of vulnerability, to be unable to do something so as to stop his tears.

“It's okay, you didn't kill her, cancer and misery did.”

Oh, what is better than the heart-melting story of a kid that sacrificed everything, from his dignity to his freedom, to help his dying mother and make her life a little less of a torture! Harry was congratulating himself for being such a good liar as he could see small tears form inside Louis' eyes as he connected the dots together, while listening to Harry's story.

“Now, I don't really have a reason to... to see your father anymore, so... your wish has been granted. I won't be around anymore.” And Harry knew exactly what he was doing, he knew that Louis would feel too sorry for him, would ask him to stick around more, just a little bit more, and that was exactly what happened. Louis couldn't help but hug him, even kiss the top of his head and try to make him feel a little less empty, less sad. And his feelings towards Harry that went from hate, to disgust, then to lust were now slowly beginning to turn into affection. He even promised to let Harry borrow his car and drive it if that could make him feel a little bit better. It actually made Harry grin lightly.

However, what followed that night was not an act.

They feel asleep next to each other, but Harry woke up in the middle of the night, all sweaty and feeling an awkward wetness rubbing against his thighs. This time, his tears were genuine. The last time he wetted his bed was probably two years ago and just when he thought that he was completely healed from that little problem he hated so much. It was just so embarrassing and he still ignored what triggered it.

He ran towards the bathroom, and locked himself there for hours. So when Louis woke up, finding no trace of Harry, he was a bit disappointed, but his spirits were soon lifted as he heard running water come from inside the bathroom. He got up and rubbed his eyes after ruffling his already messy hair, then softly knocked on the bathroom's door. “Are you alright in there?”

“Yeah.” The answer was immediate. “I'll go grab something for breakfast, want something?” Louis offered and the answer was negative.

When Louis returned with a full stomach and a croissant for Harry to eat, despite him saying that he wanted nothing, he was disappointed to see that Harry has already left, only leaving the cat's ears he was wearing the night before, on the bathroom floor.

 

Two days later, Louis and Harry met and not under the best circumstances. It was in the upper middle class neighbourhood, where there was a nice, quiet library Louis liked to spend hours in studying. As he got out, Louis was ready to hop inside his car when his irises caught sight of quite an unfamiliar sight. See, Louis has seen Harry wearing various types of clothes, from old, ripped, baggy jeans to silk kimonos and lace panties but never has he seen him in a suit, looking serious and professional and he carried what appeared to be a small, black suitcase with him, as designer shades hid his ecsquisite green eyes.

Louis swore that suit costed more than the flat Harry's family owned or rented, or whatever its status was. But, fuck, did that boy know how to pull off any look possible. He was so different, but, oh such a delight for the eyes, nonetheless.

He entered a tall building, where some corporations, agencies and organizations had their offices in. Louis waited a few minutes before crossing the street, but was deceived when seeing no trace of Harry. He didn't have any clue about where he might have gone and was going to give up his stalking when one of the names shown outside the buildings looked familiar. “Ford and co, law firm, third floor.”, it said. If Louis remembers well, and he surely does, Ford was Harry's fake, posh surname. He even said that his father was a lawyer, and Louis ahd to admit that Harry's lies were studied and that he was a bit clever, at least.

Louis came back to his car and waited.

When Harry got out again, not only fifteen minutes later, the box he was carrying had disappeared and his features seemed to have softened. He took a cab, which Louis cautiously followed, hoping for Harry not to notice, which he surprisingly didn't.

The cab then stopped in front of a private clinique and Louis couldn't bear the thought of Harry going in there for being sick. Or maybe that place was where his mother spent her last days, a place Harry afforded by giving himself to older men and random rich guys that saw nothing in him but a fuckable meatsuit.

And as if that day wasn't already full of coincidences, Louis recognized the clinique as the one Niall always talked about. The former, himself being the son and the grandson of surgeons, he was promised the familial clinique once he'd graduate and never shut up about it.

 

“This is the money.” Harry spoke seriously, as he opened the case in front of the older man's greedy eyes. “How did you...?” The man's voice was unable to reach the top of his throat. He knew that he had asked way too much money, hoping that the teenager will never gather it and that he hopefully won't be in charge of easing a terrorist's sentence, but there he was, faced with more than he could have dreamed of, unable to form a proper sentence.

Harry on his side, was ecstatic. These two days has been the best of his life. His mother died, his sister and nephew are nowhere to be seen, his father is getting lost and drunk at some cheap bar where he'll hopefully get his head smashed by some angry owner, die and burn in Hell next to his wife, oh Harry wished, he also got William to turn the cheque into cash and all it took were some tears about how his “father's” gambling addiction got worse.

However, Harry did not want the money for himself.

“You have the money, now you fulfill your part of the contract, mister Ford.” Harry was talking with a posh, smooth voice until Ford seemed to have cowered.

Harry looked around him in annoyance, waiting for the lawyer's affirmative answer. He examined the large office until his eyes settled on what appeared to be a picture of young twin girls. “Wouldn't it be such a shame for one of them to live without the other? I've heard twins have such a special connection.” Ford did not immediately understand what the teenager was talking about until he followed his green, poisonous irises.

“How dare you?” The older man shouted, standing up from his leather seat and slamming his fists against the mahogany desk in front of him. Harry reacted just in time by getting up too and forcefully grabbing his collar. “Your probably think my brother's crazy, but trust me, I am even crazier. Don't try to fuck with me. You're playing with fire.” Harry coldly threatened, and when finally judging that the man has been scared enough, he loosened his grip around his tie anf let him breathe for a moment.

Harry then readjusted his suit's blazer and sat back.

“Now, do we have a deal?” He smiled sweetly. “Yes.” The man answered with quivering lips. “I'll probably be able to drop it from death to a life sentence.”

“No life sentence, freedom.”

“I will try my best.”

Harry's genuine smile finally appeared on his face. He could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. He could almost taste happiness at the tip of his tongue.

He never even thought about going to some pretencious clinique before, but since the occasion brought it, he decided to go check his small problem. With music flowing in his ears and making him feel better than ever, he peacefully admired the beautifully kept streets of the upper class neighbourhood and for once, was too happy to feel envious.

“So, have you ever undergone any type of surgery related to your bladder, maybe kidneys, or along those lines?” harry frowned. “No?” He answered in confusion and boredom because of all the question the intern has been asking him for ages. “Last question. Have we ever met before? You look awfully familiar.”

“No.”

“Okey dokey. You can call me Niall, by the way.”

“Can I see a proper doctor now?” Harry ignored the boy's words, as he began to shake his legs nervously. It was already embarrassing to tell a doctor about wetting your bed, and even more to tell a boy al;ost your age. If Harry knew it would be this awkward for him, he wouldn't have set foot inside that private hospital.

“Okay.” The boy mumbled, before ringing somebody, he sometimes called dad and sometimes called doctor. The former arrived a few minutes after, and thanked his son for taking care of the patient before sending him out. Despite the doctor already suspecting anxiety and stress to be the young man's source of problems, he still suggested blood tests, even ultrasounds to see if everything was alright inside him.

Harry nodded without hesitation.

He uncovered his toned abdomen as a nurse applied a cold gel on his skin. Not only a few minutes after the start of the examination, the expression of the doctor grew from confused to worried. “You have clearly stated that you were never operated.” He started solemnly, making sure that Niall hasn't written false information. Harry shook his head.

“Where is this scar from, then?” The older man pointed to a fading thin line on Harry's left side that he noticed sometime but never really payed attention to. “Childhood, I guess? I don't remember getting it.”

A deathly silence settled inside the examination room, followed by a loud breath coming out of doctor Horan's mouth.

“Are you aware you only posess a single kidney? And judging from the scar, I am certain it was removed through surgery. During your early childhood, I presume, since you have no memory of it.”

Harry couldn't even express what he felt at that moment. The only person he thought of was his mother and how he would've shoot her brains to death that day if she wasn't already in Hell. She was the one that did this. And it just gave him even more solid reasons to despise the day that woman gave birth to him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I am not dead, I am just sooooooooooooooooooo busy with college, I am so sorry! And this chappie is soooo lame and I am not used to my new qwerty keyboard yet and im such a mess.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Louis kinda bond. Just a little.

 

Harry was mortified when he got out of that clinique. He still couldn't believe how he lived all these years, never knowing that he had only one kidney that has been unfairly torn away from his little body when he was just a toddler. It did more than anger him, it was driving him mad, just to think that he might have never discovered this. It was beyond frustrating. If she wasn't dead, Harry would probably have killed his mother for this, as he was certain she was standing behind this.

He knew that because as the doctor said, the surgery has been done during his childhood, and well, Harry has spent his early childhood with his mother alone, while his father was jailed and his siblings in foster care. Sometimes, Harry wished he's been put in foster care, too. At least, he would have given the opportunity of dreaming of a better life, he would've held onto the hope of some wealthy, loving family taking him under their wing and giving him a fun life and happy memories. Instead of that, he lived with that despicable, poisonous woman and grew up fucked up, missing a kidney and the major part of his dignity.

After paying and scheduling another appointment for the following week, Harry got out of the building and was surprised to see that same black luxurious car he was in not only two days ago. For a moment, Harry wondered if Louis might be a crazy stalker, because those are too much coicidences. It is like they meet everywhere, as if fate wanted them to cross path as often as possible.

And crossing paths, they surely did.

See, the first time they met was technically not a few months ago, as they'd like to think. The first time they met, Louis was a happy, chubby five years old and Harry was a scared, overwhelmed two years old, sitting on an examination table, wearing nothing but a light, baby blue hospital gown as he sucked on his index and middle finger. His bright green eyes were staring in pure childish amazment at the equipment surrounding him. He has been left alone for less than two minutes, which he didn't feel pass when people started barging inside the room.

A man, a woman holding a blonde frail toddler, Harry's age and a boy, that seemed way older than Harry, all barged inside the room, and of course his mother was accompanying them. Harry felt a little bit more secure with his mother's presence, but still, everything was a little too much for him as he could not understand what was happening.

The woman, who had her blonde hair in a high bun, and a pearl necklace around her frail neck sobbed the moment she set eyes on the kid. She immediately got out of the room. Harry's mother rolled her eyes in irritation and exited the place too, followed by the man, who seemed to be in his forties and was as nicely dressed as the rest of the family.

Harry was not left alone this time. There was this blue eyed little boy that was eyeing him with an excited smile. “What's your name?” The boy then asked Harry, thinking that the boy's ability to speak was fully developped, which was actually quite the contrary as Harry rarely spoke. So, he stayed silent. “I am Louis.” The kid then introduced himself upon receiving no answer from the bony boy, that looked a step away from underweight.

“You look dirty.” Louis added, noticing the wild, unbrushed, untrimmed hair on the boy's head and the bruises on the uncovered parts of his body that he has mistaken for mud or dirt. Harry's silence made the curious boy unhappy. “You don't talk or what?”

The younger boy's toes curled. He removed his now, wet fingers, from his mouth and let his head hang low, not knowing what to do. He didn't grasp half of the things the boy was saying. He was just waiting for his mummy to come back. That woman who scared Louis at first, with her scruffed hair, her runny mascara, her hoarse voice, her evil smile, her odd clothes and her disgusting odor. That was the woman Harry's life revolved around at the moment. She was also the only human contact he has ever had since his birth, hence his crazy attachment to her, an attachment he never realized would turn into hate, not only a few years later.

Just on the other side of the wall, Louis' mother was sobbing as a heated argument with her husband started again. “I can't do this to a kid! He isn't aware of what's happening! I can't.” She cried as she held on tight into her daughter, that she wanted to save but couldn't bring herself to do it while harming somebody else. “His own mother doesn't mind, Jane.” Her husband reminded her.

“His mother doesn't care about him. She'll probably waste all the money on drugs and alcohol and...” She came back to crying again, just remembering the innocence that the boy's eyes radiated, just thinking of that kid needing his kidney someday if the other one fails him and not being able to save himself. She didn't want to live with this guilt. “I can't do this to a baby, William. It's not legal for a reason, you know.”

Her husband sighed and took the little girl from her overly emotional mother. William couldn't see why she was overreacting. That boy was insignificant, his life was meaningless copared to his daughter's, and if he could, William would take both kidneys from the boys and never feel an ounce of regret. He knew that if that boy ever made it past adolescence, he'd be nothing but some thief or drug dealer. There was no hope for him. So his life might as well serve a good purpose, at least.

“I'll go call the nurse.” William coldly stated before starting to walk through the long, chilly corridor of the private hospital. Meanwhile, Jane was still sobbing in her corner, because her heart did not allow her to sacrifice such a young child, even if it were to save her daughter's life. She as if the guilt would devour her, later. “You're doing him a favour, you know.” A hoarse voice was heard, before Jane smelled the despicable odour of cheap tabacco. It was the child's mother, whose motives Jane still did not understand.

Jane quickly wiped her wet cheeks and straightened her back, as the woman with the odd, cheap appearance sat beside her, a thin cigarette between her plump lips. If you looked behind the smeared makeup, the ugly clothes, the overall despicable appearance, Harry's mother was actually a beautiful woman. If she has been born inside another context, she might have been a model, or an actress. Tall, slender, green eyes, sharp features, she had everything to be a real beauty, but all was gone to waste when she drowned in drugs and alcohol, that made her age quickly, making her look fourty when in fact, she was only in her early twenties.

However, despite her fading beauty, her seductiveness and charm were still alive, and those were assets Harry would inherit from her, too.

“You... How can you do this to your son?” Jane asked her. A smirk, that same smirk that would annoy the fuck out of Louis when displayed on Harry's lips, showed. “ _Madame.”_ Harry's mother started in an eloquent, sarcastic tone.“Nobody from where we come has two kidneys. Harry is no exception. At least, he won't be starving for the next months, thanks to your husband's generosity. You should be happy for him.”

Still, Jane could not follow her logic.

“No mother would do this to her son, still. It's like you don't even love him.”

The other woman's smirk vanished. She remained silent, as if deep in thought.

The silence was interrupted by Louis' energetic presence. He barged out of the room, rolling his eyes. “Muuuum! That boy! He doesn't ta'k! It's like, it's like he doesn't hear me! He's crazy.” His high pitched voice filled the waiting room, but none of the women reacted.

Louis then sat on his mother's lap and started waiting too. Soon enough, doctors and nurses entered the room where Harry was and some crying was heard. Again, nobody reacted. The crying faded and a heavy silence settled for the next hours.

That day, Harry kept no memory of it. Louis, on the other side, remembered it but didn't give much importance to details. See, he remembered that some boy gave his sister his kidney, but the boy's face was not inside his memory. If Louis knew about Harry being his sister's donor, would he have been more considerate?

A question he could probably never answer.

 

“All right, I'll ring you later!” Louis shouted, glad he could finally free himself from Niall's endless conversations. He did not see a trace of Harry inside the hospital and was very disappointed. His deceit, however, didn't last long as the first thing he saw when he got out was Harry leaning against the hood of his car. He swallowed his saliva, feeling suddenly nervous, like a school girl facing her crush.

“Oh, Harry?” He tried to act surprised.

“Yes. Harry.” He mumbled before finally raising his head to face Louis. His face was serious. It put Louis off a bit, who had yet to remember who this boy really was, and that he was not only a pretty, lace panties-wearing, little minx but also a fucking sociopath. “Are you following me or something?” He was really not amused with these coincidences, Louis noticed.

“You wish.” Louis rolled his eyes, before remembering that this boy, has also lost his mother not only two days ago and was probably still shaken up. There was no need to act like a dickhead, Louis convinced himself. “So, what were you doing here?” Louis asked, trying to engage civil conversation as he unlocked his car.

“I could ask the same for you.”

“I was going to grab lunch, and passed by this place, remembered a friend of mine is here, stopped to say hi and here I am.” Louis smiled but Harry's mouth never twitched. “So, you want to grab lunch with me?” From Harry's expression, You would guess that he was about to refuse. “I drive.” He simply spoke and who was Louis to refuse this simple request? He simply threw the keys in Harry's direction who quickly caught them before taking a seat in the passenger's place.

“You have your license with you?” Louis asked once they were both installed and Harry was starting the car. “I don't.” Louis kept the other questions auch as:”Do you even have a license?” to himself. “You're paying, by the way.” Harry added before they fell into silence.

Harry was a pretty good driver. No crazy speed, no light burned. Pretty impressive, Louis admitted to himself, all while questioning where his sanity went everytime Harry was in front of him. And it has just been a few days. He didn't want to think about what other craziness he might do when he'll get deeper. He couldn't believe that he even rejected this boy who has thrown himself at him too many times.

Sometimes, he regretted having morals.

“I am not feeling hungry anymore.” Harry suddenly spoke as he parked the car in an empty spot he found in the avenue thye were in. His voice was small.

Louis didn't like seeing him sad.

“We can-We can just go somewhere and talk? If you want to, of course. I already know plenty about you, so... Maybe you could get stuff out of your chest.” Louis suggested, in an attempt to bond a little, to stay a little bit more in his presence, but not knowing what was causing this sudden melancholy, he could never understand. “I don't need your pity.”

“It's not pity. I know that you're going through a lot, and if there's any way I can help you, comfort you...” Louis did not have to finish his sentence. “Are you sure you want to help me?” Harry interrupted Louis, his face looking serious as ever, which frightened Louis, just a tad bit. “One hundred per cent.”

For some reason, Louis felt as if Harry has been waiting for him to offer his help for a long time. Also, he felt stupid for accepting right away what Harry suggested.

 

A federal prison. Louis knew he'd step inside one some day, because of his studies, and never imagined another reason for it. But there he was, trying to find a compromise with the guards, so he could get a ten minutes intervew with one of teir most dangerous inmates. So dangerous, even his family hasn't been allowed to see him for the past few months. It was basically a punishment for his bad behaviour, his numerous fights, etcetera.

Louis was forced to lie, forced to falsify his professor's signature just to prove that the interview was for an assignment, forced to bribe them just so they could let Harry, who forgot his student card, pass too. After what felt like a century, they were finally able to enter.

Louis, right upon hearing that Harry wanted nothing more but to see his brother, felt touched, and almost honoured because the younger lad put his trust in him so fast and so easily to ask something as big as this. It was not like Harry opened up and really started talking about his family, or anything like that, it was just a dry, direct: “I want to talk to my brother in prison.” As simple as that, no emotions, just words.

Louis, at first was scared, as soon as he remembered who Harry's brother actually was. But for confused reasons, Louis wanted to do anything that could comfort Harry. He didn't know what his relationship was with his older brother or if this was just to tell him about their mum's death. It took him two days to call Harry and make this happen. Either way, Louis felt really proud about himself once they let them in. No smile appeared on Harry's lips, though, so he was a tad bit disappointed.

They were brought to a small room, not the actual visits room that Harry was used to when he came to see him for the first times. I consisted of a tiny table, four chairs, all made with old, dusty wood that was almost falling into pieces. Louis and Harry were told to wait as they sat in awkward silence. Louis brought a notebook and a pen, just to look a little more credible.

When the door opened and Louis' eyes first laid on the three men entering, he couldn't help but feel frightened. However, Harry's eyes lit up and he was about to stand up when he remembered the small act he had to put in front of the officers accompanying the inmate. He was tall and bulky, his head was shaved but you could clearly see that he had very fair hair. Tattoos were showing on every bit of skin that was not covered in the horrid orange suit he was wearing. He looked threatening, more threatening than Louis has seen on pictures, in the internet when he searched up the man.

He was brutally shoved down to sit then had his right hand cuffed with one of the tables' legs. Louis awkwardly glanced at Harry, who was also looking at his brother that immediately understood what was going on and acted like everything was normal. They were all waiting for the guards to go out, but they were also making sure everything was secure, throwing a bunch of insults and threats to Harry's brother before finally exiting the room. “Ten minutes.” One of them reminded them.

As soon as the door closed, Harry hopped from his seat and threw himself at the older boy. The hug was awkward because there was no way they could actually embrace each other properly. However, Louis thought that it was quite touching, to finally see raw emotions from Harry. It was also odd to see a feared criminal, an alleged psychopath, get so soft and hug Harry back, as hard as he could.

Louis quickly took interest in his phone, since he wanted to leave them some privacy and couldn't leave the room. He did his best not to pay attention to their conversation but it was hard not to. Some stuff really confused Louis.

“How 'you? You good? How did they let you in here? Who's the guy with you? Why is he so dressed up?” He showered Harry with questions, who really did not care about answering them and was only clinging harder to his older brother, probably the only family he ever had. “I miss you so much.” He repeated over and over again with a hoarse voice that was barely covering up his tears.

Louis bit on his lip when Harry actually started crying. His voice was so broken and throaty, and he couldn't control his emotions anymore. It reminded him of that video he first saw of Harry, that video that shoked him then didn't matter to him, and was now making him feel such a deep pang in his chest.

The older man was just trying to shush his younger brother, his free hand slowly patting his long hair and brushing against his nape. Louis wished he could someday get as intimate as this with Harry. He didn't know why he had these thoughts. They were plain weird and creepy.

When Harry finally came back to his usual self and realized that he has wasted too much time, probably half of it, he went straight into the subject. He was still embracing his brother, and Louis was a bit thrown off when seeing Harry actually sit on his lap, because it looked odd, but anyway, Harry was an odd human, so nothing should surprise Louis anymore.

“Mum's dead.” Harry finally stated. Louis witnessed a change in Joey's, Harry's brother, features. His face became impossible to decipher. He wasn't sad, yet concern showed on his face and also relief? Louis did really not grasp what was going on. “How 'you feeling?” His index finger reached up to Harry's chin which he raised, so that the younger boy's eyes would directly face his pale blue ones.

“I don't feel something new. I don't know.”

Harry muttered lowly. He probably didn't want Louis to hear but it was really not possible. The room was so tiny that even whispering could be heard. “Actually, I am here to tell you something else-” Harry started, changing the topic and biting his lips in apprehension. “Yeah?” His brother attentively listened. “Please, just hear me out 'til the end.” Joey nodded, but was getting suspiscious. So was Louis.

“I've hired a lawyer for you, he's-he's real good and-”

“Harry.” His brother's severe voice suddenly interrupted him. “You said you won't interrupt! Just listen!” Harry voice went a little bit too high. Louis wondered what the matter was. “No, you listen. Where did you get the money from?” Now, that was a question that Louis would've gladly answered as he directly thought of his father.

Now, it all made sense. Harry was attached to his brother, wants him to be free, dates older rich men, gets the money, pays lawyer, then big brother is free. Quite simple.

“It doesn't matter. You'll be free!” Harry was obviously acting suspiscious, as if guilty. “Did you get into drug dealing? I told you to stay away from that shit- I fucking told you!” Harry bit his lips and lowered his lids, ready to cry again. “It doesn't matter! I am paying you back, this is my way of paying you back!”

“You pay me back by staying in school and doing something honest out of your life, not dealing drugs and ending up in jail!” Harry should've shut his mouth and let his brother believe that he used drug money to pay the lawyer, but he spoke too fast. “I didn't get the money from drugs, okay? I am not stupid!” An awkward silence fell upon the room and realization slowly hit Joey.

“Tell me you didn't- you didn't do- Tell me you fucking didn't-” He didn't even have to pronounce the words. “I don't want you to die.” Did Joey guess that Harry was basically whoring around to get the money? Louis wondered, but he could not really be sure. What was ahrd to watch was Harry break down again and not out of happiness. “You know what? I guess- I guess you enjoy it, after all! I guess I wasted my life for nothing!”

Louis was confused. His eyes were glued to the screen but he couldn't help but try to understand joey's words.

“Louis, let's go.” Harry then spoke in a quiet, defeated voice. “Was he the one that gave you the money? Congrats, you actually upgraded from dinosaurs to twinks.” Joey's words felt like a knife stabbing Harry's chest multiple times. Louis got up, feeling Joey's eyes shot daggers through his body. “Yeah, go cry in your boyfriend's lambo.”

They got out.

Harry was hysterically crying, Louis wondered how he could explain it to the guards. “He is really insulting, and wouldn't stop bashing him. My friend is kind of sensitive.” Louis was sure they didn't believe his lies, but whatever, what mattered now was just getting to his car.

“J-Just drop me at the nearest bus station.”

Harry was so disappointed, so hurt and must be feeling so terribly lonely. Louis didn't want to leave him alone, but he didn't have another choice. “You're going to be alright?” Louis couldn't help but ask, just as Harry was climbing down his car. He didn't answer.

 

When everything went wrong, Harry always slept. It was the safest temporary fix. He was feeling so tired, so discouraged, so lonely. The ray of hope that has been lightning his world for the few past days completely disappeared. He was now feeling so lost. What should he do now? He had no fucking clue.

If he could, he would sleep forever. And he didn't want to wake up. But the awkward feeling of wetness at covering his thighs woke him up, and again, he panicked. He cried some more. He then changed his pants and washed the other ones. After that, he simply sat in the corner of the bathroom, and emptied his heart.

His sobs were interrupted by soft knocks on his door.

He couldn't think of somebody that could knock so gently. It wan't his sister, father or a neighbour.

He finally got up and washed his face with cold water before answering the door. His face was still flushed and his eyes swelled and bloodshot, but he really didn't care for the moment. He was just curious to see who it might be. When he opened, he was surprised to see Louis in front of him, in clothes that looked way different from his usual preppy ones.

“I brought ldinner” He cheerfully spoke before entering the tiny flat, uninvited. “We're not friends, don't pull shit like this.” Harry was implicitly telling him to get the fuck out, but Louis played dumb. “Don't be so grumpy. We've had our differences, let's forget them over some nice sushi. I hope your family doesn't mind my presence. Are you alone in here?”

“Louis, this is not a good idea.”

Harry did really not want Louis inside the house. As Louis entered, he started feeling so judged and uncomfortable. However, he gave up as soon as Louis put the boxes he had with him on top of the kitchen counter and started taking off his jacket.

Harry closed the door.

Directly after that, the power went off. Louis didn't seem very surprised.

“Look like we're going to share a nice romantic meal with candles and all!” Louis tried to joke and his heart actually warmed when Harry finally answered: “Oh, shut your piehole, you're giving me a headache already.”

 


	7. Chapter 7.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get pretty emotional. Harry turns out to be a big softie.

For the first time in his life, Harry was glad electricity got cut off. This way, he could at least not worry about Louis' judgmental eyes. But still, there was some discomfort in the atmosphere. Harry knew Louis would ask questions, and honestly, Harry was not prepared to answer anything , he was not even prepared to see somebody's face for probably a week following his disastrous meet up with his brother.

While he was trying to figure out where his mother used to stock candles or a flashlight for such cases, Louis, on the other hand was using his phone's light to guide himself. He sat without invitation on top of the only couch that made up the living room. Upon noticing a syringe just laying on top of the table, he frowned, slightly creeped out by it.

Harry finally found a couple of candles and reached out in the pocket of the jacket he has been wearing for the whole day to look for a lighter. He didn't smoke but always carried one with him, out of habit, even if it served no purpose at all. He lit the both of them and let some of the wax melt on top of a plate before fixing the two sticks on top of it. He then carefully walked to where Louis was, putting it on top of the table.

In a sigh and under Louis' curious stare, he grabbed the syringe and disposed of it in the trash, then finally came back with the take-away. There was a moment of hesitation during which Harry didn't know where to actually sit, since Louis was taking all of the couch with his legs spread. He finally understood and shut them before moving a few inches away, leaving enough space for Harry to sit in.

A moment of awkward silence followed.

Louis wanted to talk, he really had a speech all prepared, mostly an apology speech. But now, he lacked the courage that it took to speak up. “Look, if you're only here to ask questions or to pity me or whatever other bullshit-” Harry started out of the blue.

“No- No, I won't do that- I just-” Louis mumbled before sighing longly. “Look.” He then spoke more clearly, now trying to face Harry, who was only trying to avoid any form of eye contact with him. “I have tried to- to put myself in your shoes-”

“You can't.” Harry interrupted harshly, and Louis could see from the way he was cracking his knuckles that his blood was already boiling. “I said, I've tried. And I have realized that I might have been too harsh on you because I never took your conditions or feelings into consideration.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“I really don't need your pity.”

“Every time I try to treat you nicely, you take it for pity.” Louis lost his cold blood for a second and noticed that Harry flinched away as soon as he raised his voice. “Look, what I am trying to say is, I understand your motives and I feel ashamed of myself because I have disrespected you from the very beginning, I mean- You were tough too, but I guess that- If I have left you alone, then you wouldn't have done all the crazy stuff, because- I mean, you were defending yourself and I understand that too.” Louis realized that he was not really making himself clear.

“Let's just eat.” Harry answered in a sigh. “At least work on your transitions, your skills at skipping topics are not on point.” Louis could a hear a small blow of air and decided that it was definitely a giggle, which satisfied him. “And also, do- do you want to like- hum, like- sue Alexander for what he did?” That was the part Louis was really ashamed of, the fact that he forgot about that video as soon as he discovered Harry's identity, as if the boy deserved to be treated like shit because his parents didn't shit gold.

“No.” Harry replied coldly. “Harry, he's my friend but he went too far-” At that point, Harry wasn't even listening to him anymore, he got up again and came back a few minutes later with a fork and a bottle that has probably been forgotten for years inside some cupboard. He couldn't really make up what kind of alcohol was inside it, but he knew that if he had to spend this entire night with Louis trying to be so nice and attentive, he would have to do it with alcohol in his system. He needed some anyway, after all that has happened that same day.

“You eat sushi with a fork?”

“No, with my hands. The fork is for your fancy ass.”

“I'll be fine with chopsticks, thank you.”

They ate in silence, and more darkness, since the sun has set down and the only light was that of the burning candles, which was really not enough for one of them to perfectly see the other. It was relaxing, though. Harry would take from time to time a sip from the bottle, and the liquor in it burned his throat every time. Louis couldn't tell it that it was actually alcohol, since the bottle was made of plastic and well, Louis rarely drank water out of plastic bottles, let alone alcohol.

“What is it?” He finally asked, his curiousity taking the best of him. Harry smirked to himself before handing him the bottle. Louis gulped, understanding that he was sharing his drink. He took a long breath before accepting his offer, however, as soon as he brought his nose close to the opening of the bottle, he gagged at the smell and gave it back. “What the fuck is that?”

Harry just laughed and muttered a faint, sarcastic “Pussy” under his breath before sipping from the bottle again. “S' pruno. Home-made wine.” Louis kept silent for a moment, trying not to take offense in Harry's little insult. “It smells terrible.” He finally said, making the younger boy's laugh double. It was a lovely sound, Louis couldn't help but notice for the thousandth time.

“Did you honestly make that at home or are you lying as usual?”

“I don't lie that much.” Harry pouted, bringing his legs closer to his chest. Louis did not agree but he decided not to argue. And as if Harry noticed his hesitation, he added: “I don't lie that much, to you.” Somehow, his words made Louis feel special. “Really?” He couldn't help but ask, thankful for the darkness as he felt his cheeks redden. “I mean, yeah, you know more about me than anybody else I know, so...” He left his words hanging.

“I feel flattered.”

Comfortable silence settled between them. Louis could still hear Harry take a few gulps out of his bottle.

“Did I scare you when I threatened to kill you?” Harry spoke out of the blue, his voice was so calm and relaxing, that it made Louis smile to himself. “A bit.”

“Did it scare you to know who my brother was?”

“Kind of.”

“He's not a bad person.” Harry weakly defended him. “Well, he killed a lot of people...”

“He had his reasons.”

“I won't argue. Anyway, I should probably go.”

“You really shouldn't. S' late, no electricity, no-” Harry was soon interrupted when rushed knocks were heard from behind the door. Harry's silence did not reassure Louis who felt like the situation just got too dangerous for his liking. “Shit.” Harry whispered to himself when the knocking wouldn't stop. “Harry! You there?” It was his sister's voice.

“Go in one of the rooms. Take the light with you.” He lowly instructed to Louis before getting up himself and opening the door. Darkness was filling the place. Harry cleared his throat while waiting for Louis to find a safe place. After hearing a door's lock turn, he finally stood up and opened for his sister. She was holding an expensive phone in her hand, using it's light to see clearly.

She looked in good shape. Her hair was straight and brushed out of her face, her skin was less pale than usual, her clothes, quite pretty, she even had some make-up on, which was something Harry has never seen on her. “I-I thought I'd bring you dinner.” She tried to smile at him. He wasn't buying her act. “Okay.” He replied shortly, taking the plastic bag she handed him. “Anything else?”

Her teary eyes did not exactly move him, but made him rather curious, actually. “I wanted to talk- um- I-” She started mumbling, but her tears wouldn't let her speak up. Her throat felt dry and lumpy. Harry remained indifferent, still standing next to the door, waiting for her to go away.

“I've been-Um, living with Zayn, these days.” Harry only rolled his eyes. As if he cared about what she did with her life and whom she chose to live with. However, the way she was avoiding his eyes and the amount of tears she was shedding made her look guilty of something grave, something she was surely about to reveal. “We're planning to move out. Uh- To another state, south, very far away. Zayn says you'd be too much trouble... I wish-I wish I could take you with me.”

“Don't wanna come either.” Harry remained cold. “I hope to see you again, sometime, when you're all grown up.” She tried to smile but was met with an expressionless face that made her grin drop. “Probably not gonna happen.” He mumbled under his breath, not loud for her to hear. “So-Um- Goodbye then.” She wiped her tears using her hands then tried to stand on her tiptoes. She placed the smallest kiss on his jaw and that was when he felt tears forming inside his eyes. Tears he tried to swallow as she walked away.

When he closed the door, he saw Louis standing right next tot the room where he has been, holding the candles, looking a bit perplexed. “Who was that?” He asked curiously. “Nobody important.” Talking felt too exhausting, especially when tears were blocking his throat, waiting for the tiniest weakness to show up and ruin his whole image. “You know what? I think it'd be better if you went home.” He added, catching Louis off-guard who was not even left with a moment to express himself. “Just lock your car's doors and roll up your windows, and you'll be fine.”

Louis sensed that something was off. He directed his eyes towards the bag Harry was holding but did not ask any questions. He thought classier to leave the boy alone since he asked it. “I'll escort you downstairs.” Harry proposed and Louis did not refuse.

They remained silent, except for Harry's runny nose which Louis thought was caused by a cold but was actually anything but that. They bid farewell coldly and Harry found himself sitting on the stairs leading to the floor where his family's flat was, too tired to continue walking. With nothing but a small candle giving poor light, he opened the bag his sister gave him, as it felt way too heavy to only be carrying a meal.

He found two plastic containers, a juice box and an apple. One of the boxes was large and felt hot. He opened it to be struck by the scent of pasta and tomato sauce, it was probably homemade, which felt odd to him as he has never eaten anything made by his sister or mother, always microwavable or ready to eat meals. He closed it. The other had money in it, tens of one dollar bills, and a small amount of bills of higher amounts. To the back of the box was attached a small note he didn't notice until he put it aside.

“Stay in highschool. Be good. I'll send money.” Her messy writing was not exactly unclear but reading the note and grasping its content needed from him too much time and effort.

Realisation hit him hard.

He was now alone. Completely and utterly alone. His brother doesn't want to see him anymore, his sister went away, his mother was dead, his father was nowhere to be seen. And even if half of these people meant absolutely nothing to him, he still felt a pang in his chest whenever he thought of their absence. He couldn't help it and he hated himself for it. It was stronger than him.

Then he grew angry. His tears were not those of sadness and nostalgia but rage. They were the ones that left him alone and there he was crying because of them. He shouldn't be, he should not even give any of them a thought, so it angered him to think of them. He decided he hated all of them now.

In an uncalculated movement, he brought the candle to the note and burned it then did the same to all those dollar bills she probably spent months saving. Nothing mattered anymore. If none of them cared, then he couldn't care either, and there was no need to be sentimental. Then, he moved to wipe his cheek as hard as he could, trying to erase that kiss both from his skin and memory but only ended up with a sore skin that his tears did not help soften.

***

Harry has been acting oddly since their last meeting, Louis noticed. Another thing he noticed was the fact that the boy was still dating his father, which created inside Louis some pretty conflicted emotions. On the one hand, the younger lad promised Louis that he'd stop seeing his father upon his mother's death, a promise he has not kept, which led Louis to think that Harry was actually enjoying the money and not using it for his mother's treatment solely. However, the few times where Harry was at home were also the only times where they could see each other, and those few times always felt like rays of sunshine inside Louis' boring and gloomy life.

Harry acted distant but was still friendly, and whenever they smiled at each other, a small piece of Louis' heart melted.

Harry made it a habit to come and dine every friday night and sometimes, stay there. So Louis always awaited that day like a kid waited for Christmas. He would make sure the food served was at Harry's taste and would find something for all of them to watch, a baseball match, a movie or even the freaking news, just so that he'd have as much time as possible in Harry's presence.

“Is your father really working on that terrorist's case?” William once asked, making Louis cough his lungs out after a piece of food got stuck in his throat. Harry, however, carried on chewing on his piece of steak, with cool blood. “I think so, I don't really have much interest in his work.” His voice was monotone and completely natural. “People are not happy about it, I've read in the papers.”

“People will never be happy. He's doing his job.” Louis was curiously observing the scene, since it smelled like the beginning of a domestic dispute. “Well, he shouldn't be defending scum like that guy.” William angrily spat before taking a large sip out of his wine glass. “I believe the guy had valid reasons.” Harry replied calmly.

William was outraged to see Harry himself defending the criminal and was about to blow the small argument out of proportion when Louis interfered. “I believe Harry is right. We have studied his case at uni. He is obviously hiding his reasons because his psychological tests only reveal anger issues which are not exactly responsible for his attack. From our analysis, we've deducted that he's protecting somebody by hiding the truth.” Louis was nervous to speak up but he still managed to sound very professional and mature, cooling down his father's nerves.

“And what might be the reason behind his actions, then?” He asked impatiently.

“When the man entered the church, he freed the women, the children and some men, only kept a few othrr men hostage, and we believe he was actually targeting those men.” He then looked at Harry intensely before adding:”We still don't know why but I hope the reopening of his case will clear that out.”

So, Louis might have lied a bit. He did not study Harry's brother for school, he did to satisfy his curiousity, but ended up with more questions than actual answers. He wished he could ask Harry for answers but did not want to pour salt on his wounds. “Revenge, probably.” Harry unexpectedly added, and Louis felt as if that was an actual answer to his numerous questions.

“Certainly.”

They maintained eye contact for a few seconds before William's phone broke the serene atmosphere. He excused himself, they carried on eating in silence, but heard him, from time to time, yell some profanities into the phone's speaker. He then came back, his face hot red in frustration and anger. Louis and Harry both looked up at him. “Something is off with the factories in New Mexico. I need to go check on them. Harry, you- you finish your dinner and I'll call Liam to give you a ride.”

Harry nodded obediently. “I'll give him a lift.” Louis generously offered. “And- when will you be back?” He asked further more. “In two-three days, I guess. Anyway, both of you, take care, okay?” He ruffled Louis' hair then gave a kiss to Harry's temple before storming out. “I'd better get going, then.” Harry stated as he wiped his mouth, ready to stand up.

“Oh- Um, I was planning to watch a football game, then drive you home.”

“It's okay, I'll take the tube.”

“No- It's alright. I'll watch the rewind.”

'I'll stay 'til the end of the match. Don't want you to miss out because of me.” Harry gave him a small smile that made Louis nervous, as he remembered the last time they were left alone in William's house. Well, Harry actually threw himself at Louis, saw his boner twice and broke his phone into pieces. Now, nothing will happen, definitely. Harry doesn't see Louis as a threat anymore and he's also less lively and energetic than before. It's actually quite sad.

They sat on the same couch, in the living room, in front of the gigantic TV screen, but still had some distance between them. Harry was hugging one of his legs against his chest while Louis sat relaxed, a bottle of beer between his hands. They did not speak until the half-times. “You're not really a fan of football, are you?” Louis tried to ease the never-ending, unexplained awkwardness between the both of them, but it didn't seem to go anywhere. “Not really.”

“Is there something up with you?” Louis dared to ask, expecting him to go all defensive. “No, I'm just tired with highschool. I need to catch up a bit. I've had a ton of homework to do.” Louis almost forgot that the boy was still a teenager. Harry then quickly reached for his phone and faked interest in it, hoping for the conversation to stop. He was only afraid Louis would ask him why he was still seeing William. Because he'd starve to death, surely, was the answer, but he was not ready to admit it.

“So you'll be graduating this year?” Louis wanted to fill those fifteen minutes of the half but Harry only stuck with brief answers to kill that conversation. “No.”

Louis didn't try after that.

He tried to focus solely on the match and only looked at Harry when the team he supported finally scored. He was about to cheer and ask Harry if he saw that magnificient score but quickly gave that idea up when he noticed that Harry had drifted to sleep. His head was resting on one of the pillows, his mouth slightly gaped and his cheeks had reddened for some reason. Louis found him adorable. He even forgot the score and the whole match to contemplate his ethereal beauty.

Louis couldn't help himself. He really tried to keep his hands off, feeling like the boy has been violated enough and didn't need another creep touhing him without his permission, but it was stronger than him. He reached for his cheekbone and caressed it softly, brushing some of the curls that fell on it. Somehow, Louis' attachment to the boy only grew more after this simple touch. He felt like his heart would explode out of affection towards him and couldn't understand why and how.

Also, he felt screwed. He could not like Harry, it was simply too complicated, immoral and disrespectful of his father. But, still, another part of him made him think that Harry would be much happier with him than with his father.

Suddenly, Harry jolted awake, and fortunately for Louis, he had removed his hand from his face long ago. However, Harry's mortified, even embarrassed expression made Louis think that he has been awake all this time. But Harry unexpectedly got up and ran towards one of the bathrooms, never leaving Louis enough time to comprehend the situation.

Harry spent quite a time in the bathroom and Louis started to worry. He knocked twice on the door before receiving an answer, and not one he has been expecting. “Go away.” Harry yelled, and his voice gave away the fact that he has been crying. Did Louis cause that? Well, he was definitely feeling guilty and didn't expect such a reaction.

“I am-I am sorry!” Louis weakly apologized, giving the door a few knocks. “What're you sorry for? S'not your fault.” He sounded angry and a bit confused. Louis was certainly not less confused than he was. Clearly, no one knew what the other was talking about.

Louis waited a bit by the bathroom, hoping for another sign from Harry to understand what this all was about. The wait didn't last long. “Uh- Do you have spare pants that could fit me? And-Uh, underwear, too?” Louis needed some time to wrap his head around this strange request. He didn't want to embarrass Harry further and obliged. He found a pack of boxers he never wore because they were a size too small for him and a pair of sweatpants.

“Open the door now, I'll hand them to you.”

The door opened enough for a shy hand to appear. Louis placed inside the palm one of the boxers then balanced the sweatpants on top of his thin wrist. He then turned the lock and returned for a small moment to the living room. He noticed for the first time a small wet spot where Harry was sitting and tried to connect the dots.

“Shit, shit, shit!” He heard from behind him, before seeing Harry, wearing what Louis gave him, hurry to try and scrub that spot out of the fancy fabric covering the sofa. “What-What is happening?” Louis asked curiously, trying to get closer. “Nothing!” Harry shouted before repeating the same word in a forced calm tone.

When the spot wouldn't go away, which was basically impossible since he was only trying to rinse it using his wet fingers, Harry couldn't help but break down in tears, and get angry at himself for doing so, which resulted in more tears. His face being already flushed, he quickly turned red as Louis stood behind him, questioning himself about what could've happened. He didn't even know what he was supposed to do.

He finally settled for a decision. He crouched down, right next to him, passed his arm around his waist and gently placed Harry's head on his own chest as his knees hit the carpeted floor. “It's okay, it's just a stain, it'll be cleaned tomorrow, it's okay.” Louis didn't want to ask for explanations if that would embarrass Harry further.

He felt Harry's palpitations slow down and his anxiousness ease, and he couldn't be prouder of himself for comforting him. He finally let go of him when he felt like he was completely calmed. “I'll go fetch some water.” Harry nodded weekly, wiping both his runny nose and his wet cheeks.

A small pool of blood was still circling his glossy green irises when Louis returned with a bottle of water and a small cup. His lashes were still sticky and every one of his limbs, shaky. Louis poured a bit of water for Harry then brought the cup to the boy's trembling lips. He swallowed the whole thing.

“Sorry.” He finally said, out of breath. “There's nothing to be sorry for, and you-you don't owe me explanations or anything, it's okay.” Louis was curious, of course, but knew that Harry was too shaken up to tell anything coherent. “It's just embarrassing to-to you know- piss yourself at fucking eighteen.” Well, Harry thought Louis meant by 'explanation” the reason behind his condition, thinking that he has seen what has happened, and Louis was quite shocked to hear his words.

“Oh.” Louis only managed to say. “It's like I am sleeping and then I'll feel myself doing it and can't wake up that exact moment to stop it, it's-it's driving me crazy.” Well, Louis was honestly not expecting that. He didn't even think Harry would talk to him about such an intimate issue. He felt special because the younger boy actually trusted him enough.

“Are you disgusted? I'd understand, even I am disgusted.” He shot Louis a weak smile and it's as if the awkwardness finally left and they were chatting like old friends, about Harry's bedwetting problem. “No, not really. I've witnessed more disgusting in the frat house.” Louis chuckled and sat on the carpet, right next to Harry, still holding the water between his hands.

“Did you see a doctor about it?”

“Yep.”

“And?”

“They said it's in my head, even the overreaction, happens every time, like, I should see a therapist about it. Can't exactly afford that.”

Louis suddenly felt sad and guilty about his privilege, realizing that there are millions of people out there that have to live with certain conditions because they can't afford a doctor. “I have a friend who could-”

“I am talking to you to get out of my chest, not to have look for solutions on my behalf. I'll sort myself out.” Harry interrupted him. Louis only nodded. “I'd never thought I'd say this but crying weirdly suits you. Not the sobbing, just the after-crying look.”

“You have weird taste.” Harry chuckled. “I probably am a mess right now.” He added, shaking his hair using one of his hands. “Well, messy suits you, then.” Louis flirted, unsure of what he was exactly trying to achieve. Harry smiled shyly. “Personally, I like my men sleek.” He teased.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” Harry responded, biting his lips softly, as his eyes scanned Louis' chiseled face. “Am I sleek enough for you? Do I meet your standards?” That was a fucking stupid and dangerous question to ask. “I guess you'd do.” He answered, moving his face Louis' direction whose heart was starting to race. Harry was leaning in for a kiss. Harry wanted to kiss Louis. His mind was screaming. He wanted so bad to complete what Harry started, he was desperate for it.

“This is not appropriate.” He broke the atmosphere by saying that, he knew Harry would hate him for it but that was the right thing to do, they shouldn't get romantically involved. In another life, perhaps, but the current situation was too complicated, they could never hope for their happy ending.

Expecting another outburst from the younger boy, he was surprised when he heard a soft, defeated:”Yeah, you're right.” They looked at each other, regret clear in both of their irises. “I'll drive you home.” Louis was even more crushed. “I'll just call a cab or something, it'd be better.”

“Yeah.” Louis' voice was getting small. He felt like he has just let a huge opportunity slip out of his hands, an opportunity he'll never find again, surely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a shitty person for letting you all wait for more than half a year (probably?) but I was soooooooooo busy with college y'all can't even imagine! This chapter isn't even that great to make you forgive me :/ Sorry again for the longest wait ever, I hope I'll finish this fanfic before the start of the year, so you won't have to wait again!  
> Loads of love xxx


	8. Chapter 8.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is breaking down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys there's a pretty (I guess?) graphic scene of sexual abuse, so you've been warned. Read at your own risks. (Also, unedited, sorry)

It has been hard for Harry to sort things out for the past weeks, especially since he met up less frequently with William, which meant less money and less connexions. Living alone, he had to manage eating a decent meal a day, at least, pay bills and study, hard. Some odd motivation suddenly lit up inside him, making him stay up all night to catch up with courses and try to understand them better, especially since he has always been a bit slow when it came to studying. He also needed to find a job, because he was seriously running out of money. He even started regretting burning what his sister left him when he found himself with a growling stomach at the middle of the night. He didn't want to take risks and shoplift and couldn't even deliver weed like before, because Zayn was his main dealer.

He wished to stay at William's more, there, he ate like a king and never felt miserable, but he didn't want to pay William back, he didn't want for the old man to touch him anymore. That was mostly because he felt guilty, now. He came to terms with himself and amitted that he liked Louis quite a lot. It wouldn't be fair to any person involved for Harry to show up and toy with their emotion and risk ruining their relationship.

His wish, as wrong as it made him feel, has been granted to him, one warm night of April. It was nine in the afternoon when he received a call from William. He cleared his throat, a bit nervous, then picked up. “Hi.” He spoke softly, certain that this was how William liked him the most, delicate and a tad shy. “Oh, well hello, sugar. How have you been?”

“A bit tired, lately. What about you?”

“Fantastic. Is there something wrong? Are you sick?” His tone was worried but Harry could tell that he didn't genuinely care. “Oh, no, I've just- spent the afternoon with my highschool friends, to catch up and all that, we've talked so much it made my head hurt.” He lied, not making a single effort.

“Oh, well. I was wondering, Louis and I will be going to Los Angeles next week, to attend some event. Are you interested in coming? I'd really like for you to come along, you don't know how much I've missed you.” Harry was sure William missed other things about him rather than him, as a person. “I'll have to ask my parents.” He mumbled, giving William the answer he was probably waiting for. “Try to convince them.” He sounded pretty joyful.

“I'll try.” Harry sighed, feeling another conflict ignite inside him. “Take care of yourself, baby. Sweet dreams.”

Harry was not ready to see Louis' face again but he also couldn't bear staying at home, in those conditions anymore. He needed some fresh air again, and not just their routinical friday evening dinner or their hook-ups in William's room. Having never been outside of town before, he felt excited at the thought of leaving it for the sun and the fun of California. He waited for half an hour before texting William a comfirmation.

Right after that, he unlocked his wardrobe and reached for a rather large leather bag William probably bought him at the beginning of their relationship. He opened it and started packing the most beautiful clothes he had in his posession, expensive items that he thought long about returning to their shops but couldn't bring himself to do it, because his inner diva would rather starve than abandon his Louboutin loafers or his Saint-Laurent shirts.

*

It was an odd feeling to like someone, Harry thought, now that he was in the presence of Louis. He was afraid of talking, of moving, of breathing. He paid attention to everything he did, not wanting to make a fool of himself. He also felt himself blush at the slightest eye contact and wished they could be alone, for just a minute. Alone, so that Harry could enjoy the sight of him in peace, plunge in his deep blue eyes that resembled the colour of a calm ocean and dream of a life where they could be together without difficulties.

“So how is your father going with the case?” William couldn't help but ask, clearly very interested in either Harry's 'father' or his brother. “What case?” Harry faked confusion. “That man- The shooter- What was his name? Stilinsk-Styles?” Upon hearing his real last name, Harry looked up at Louis who was sitting in front of him, earphones blocking any sound from the exterior, clearly not interested in whatever conversation going on between his father and his boyfriend.

“I don't really know.” Harry shrugged. Harry's indifference about serious matters always put William on edge. “Why not?” The older man asked, gritting his teeth. “Why are you so interested in this?”

“This case matters because it affected my community and killed some dear friends of mine. Also, I like to be cultured and know things, unlike you, clearly.” He spat, making Harry bite his tongue so he wouldn't talk and take this argument further. He simply moved away from William and glued his nose to the luxurious van's window. Louis' reflection appeared lightly on the piece of glass and it was more than Harry could wish for.

A few hours later, Harry's eyes fluttered open and the first thing he checked was wether or not his pants were wet. To his biggest relief, he was as dry as a desert. The first thing he opened his eyes on was a tall palm tree. Then, he saw a dozen of other great trees, similar to the first one. Luxurious buildings all around him, sunny and clear sky, yellow taxis crowding the traffic, everything felt like fresh air and relief.

He never felt so relaxed.

He gently rubbed his eyes to wake himself up properly then turned to the other two, who were still both sleeping. He focused his attention on Louis, whose age dropped a good ten years while shutting his eyes. He honestly looked like a toddler, it was adorable.

*

The event they were supposed to attend was a fashion-show. In fact, Louis' mother was a designer, quite popular among celebrities back in Britain, not too much in the States, since Harry never heard of her, but not for long since the show was a part of the launching campaign of her first shop in America. But that was not the reason why William came, obviously. The collection they were about to promote for the fashion-show was co-designed by William's oldest daughter, Charlotte who insisted on his presence. And well, since she has always been his little spoiled princess, he couldn't refuse her request, of course, even if that meant meeting his ex-wife again, after many years of separation.

Harry was a bit nervous about meeting the rest of William's family and was honestly wondering how the older man would explain their situation to his daughters. “Oh, hi, this is my nineteen years old boyfriend, Harry.” It would be too absurd and funny to watch.

“I don't want to stay in the shit hotel she's forcing every guest to stay in.” William wouldn't stop bitching about the organization and it made Harry's head hurt. “It's a five star hotel.” Harry reminded him. “It's still a shit hotel.” William, mumbled, his face red in unjustified anger, as the car parked right in front of said hotel.

Louis jolted awake when the car stopped, his eyelashes fluttering rapidly to clarify his vision. “We're here?” He asked himself in confusion, as his senses tried to come nack to themselves. When the chauffeur opened the door, the warm air struck Harry who knew it would certainly be hot, but not that hot. He immediately removed his colourful Louis Vuitton bomber jacket and didn't fail to catch Louis staring, granting him some satisfaction and a light blush.

The hotel felt crowded, there were too many people in the reception, talking to eah other, probably planning the following day and perfectionning it. Harry followed both William and Louis, looking around him, discovering new faces and probably a new lifestyle. As William spoke to one of the employees, giving them their names that surely figured on the list, he suddenly started yelling, which was not out of the usual.

They did not gave Harry a room, even thought William specifically told Charlotte they'd be bringing an additional guest. Harry couldn't stay in William's room, obviously, because he was not ready to come out to his daughters yet, and that is why he asked them to give Harry a spare room. A request that she obviously did not really pay attention to. Harry started to feel uneasy when discovering what the argument was about.

The manager was called, and eventually, even Louis' ex-wife who was passing by, had to see what the fuss was all about. “Oh, Louis!” She soon forgot about the yelling she heard the moment she spotted her son's ruffled hair. Louis immediately turned around, his eyes filled with joy and a large smile on his face, then he ran towars the woman calling him. William and Harry turned too, the first one rolling his eyes in exasperation, and the second, feeling conflicted. It was sweet, yes, but he couldn't help but feel envious of the obviously great relationship Louis had with his mother, and his parents in general, something he never had the chance to experience.

The hug lasted too long for both Harry's and William's tastes. When they finally pulled away from each other, Harry could finally see her. She was blonde, a bit shorter than Louis, even in her heels and came off as very elegant. Harry wanted to say snobby instead of elegant, but as much as he tried to dislike her, he couldn't bring himself to do it. She had a very soft and friendly face, very maternal, if Harry could put it that way, and even her expensive, sharp looking clothes couldn't make her look cold or unfriendly.

She made a few steps towards them, her arm wrapped around Louis' waist, her genuine smile never leaving her face. “William.” She let go of Louis to spread her arms in front of her then put them on William's arms before approaching her face from his to peck his cheeks, à la francaise. “How have you been?” William asked with no clear sympathy or friendliness in his voice. “Great, just great, and yourself?” She didn't exactly wait for his answer, noticing another person standing there, too. She furrowed her beautifully groomed eyebrows in confusion. “And you are?”

Harry was about to open his mouth when William interfered. “Harry, Louis' friend, and I thought I told Charlotte he'd be coming along but she obviously forgot.” She fluttered her long eyelashes in the same way Louis always did while confused. “Louis' friend?” She faced her son, giving him a suggestive grin. “The hotel is packed. Hum-” She pursed her lips, thoughtful. “Oh, you could sleep in Louis' room, it's pretty spacious. Do you mind, Louis?”

Louis looked at his father who still had that same annoyed look on his face, before nodding feebly, unsure of what he was supposed to do. “Great, it's sorted now.” She joined her hands in excitement, making a little clap sound. “It was nice meeting you, Harry. I hope you'll be enjoying this.” Harry shot her an awkward smile, his hand getting sweatier by the second around the strap of his quite heavy bag. “I'll let you rest from your long journey. See you all tonight, yes? Oh, and Louis, come here with me.”

*

“Put your stuff in your room then come to mine.” William's tone was authoritarian, much to Hary's dislike, who already guessed what his intentions were. That is why he took his time inside the room he was supposed to share with Louis. The décor was pretty minimalistic, a classy black and white theme with touches of silver and gold. There was a wide king size bed which Harry claimed from the moment he saw it, a large balcony that had a view on a gigantic pool, then some sofas, here and there, a dressing room, a bathroom with a jaccuzi in it and a dining table.

He carefully placed every piece of clothing he brought with him inside the wardrobe, making sure none of it wrinkled too badly. He then made himself at home and placed here and there a few of his favourite candles, promising himself he'd light them later to freshen the air. He then changed his clothes into something more comfortable, opting for a pair of jean shorts that reached above his knees and a simple white t-shirt. He had to add his little touch and wrapped a colourful bandana around his head to keep his hair away from his face.

He then headed towards William's room that was a couple doors away. He only had to knock once to have the door opened for him. “Undress and get on the bed.” He ordered harshly. “No.” Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest and glued his back to the door. Harry's answer threw him off guard. “What do you mean, no?”

“Why would you fuck me? I am just your son's friend.”

“Harry, you don't want to be a brat, right now. I want to relax and enjoy you.” He was angry, it was obvious, but Harry did not want to be his stress-relief, not anymore, and William gave him the perfect reason to sulk. “I am not feeling it.” Harry looked at him defiantly. He honestly looked like an erupting volcano. He would probably snap at any second now, so Harry thought preferable to just leave. When he was about to turn the knob and open the door, when he felt a strong grip on his hair, gluing his face to the door, way too harshly and probbaly bruising his cheekbone.

“Stop it, William.” Harry spoke with gritted teeth, trying to sound confident, when knowing, out of experience, that there would be no stopping. He experienced it with Alexander recenlty and with other people, telling them to stop just seems to excite them more. “Bed, now.”

“I don't want it.” He felt his hair being yanked harder. “I don't really care about what you want right now.” When he removed his hand, he took the bandana with it, letting his hair fall free as he watched him walk, defeated, towards the end of the room where a blue sheeted bed was placed.

He sat on it. William immediately appeared in front of him. “Hands.” Harry spread both of his arms in front of him, his eyes glued on the carpeted floor. William wrapped the bandana around the younger lad's frail wrists. “It's too tight.” He mumbled but got ignored. “On all fours, like the little bitch you are.”

Harry obliged, wishing he wouldn't have cuffed his wrists because the position was adding to his discomfort, making his elbows go sore from the beginning. He then felt hands unbottuning his jeans, unzip them then slip them down along with his briefs. After that, those same hands cupped his bottom before spreading his cheeks apart. “You got thight, spent too much time unfucked, huh.” He didn't answer and didn't want to.

He heard another zipper go down, a plastic wrapper being opened, so he closed his eyes. This is how you pay him back, he kept reapeating to himself, as he felt something wet, probably spit, being spread around his hole to lubrify it. “Relax it.” Harry's muscles wouldn't obey. They were so tense, even a finger wouldn't make it inside. “You're making this harder for yourself.”

He felt a smack on one of his buttcheeks that made his muscles loosen up for a second, out of surprise, before coming back to their original state. “We're gonna do this the hard way then.” Harry bit as hard as he could when he felt more spit fall on his skin then two fingers getting brutally shoved inside him. He didn't even get a moment to adjust around them, they just started moving, hurting him badly.

But he still didn't talk.

The fingers tried to stretch him as wide as they could, and it felt like ages, since Harry was too tense. However, even with the poor stretching, William still managed to fit inside him, costing Harry nothing but two hopeless cries nobody would ever hear and a single tear of pain rolling down his cheek. It hurt him so much he felt like vomiting, especially when William's pelvis started to move, increasing in speed as time went on.

He tried to zone out so he wouldn't hear all the degrading names William used to call him, and especially the never-ending pain. He could sense his skin tearing. When it all became too much, his elbows stopped supporting his weight, making him fall down on his chest, with his bottom still up in the air. With his face buried in the sheets, his breath ran short and he couldn't move nor breathe properly. The only thing he could do was sob and pray for this to end soon.

*

“Well, that friend of your is something isn't he?” Louis' mum spoke, a glass of wine between her manicured hands, as they both sat alongside the empty pool. “Mum-” He tried to talk but she shushed him quickly. “He's cute, I'll give you that, but there's something about him- I mean, no offense, but I didn't really sense positive vibes around him. Something about his aura. Oh, well, I'll have to chat him up sometime.”

“Mum, really-”

“Shh, I know what you're going to say-”

“No, you don't, trust me.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Is my sixth sense failing me somehow?” She laughed, trying to ease Louis' anxious expression. “Harry is... Dad and Harry are- Please, don't make me say it.” As she heard her son's words, her eyes bulged in shock. She put her hand in front of her falling jaw. It took her a good five minutes to recover from Louis' words and wrap her head around what was happening.

“He looks- He is so... so young! He must be Charlotte's age! Dear Lord!”

“I so told you he was young.”

“Shut up! I thought you were being your typical drama queen.” She gave his forearm a light slap, before gulping the rest of the wine that sat in her cup. “Your dad needs a reality check. What does he think he's doing? Oh my God, I can't think about it without gagging.”

She sighed, obviously still conflicted about the situation.

“That's where that vibe came from! I knew there was something off about that boy! I was certain. My senses don't fool me.” Louis bit his lips, fighting the urge to defend Harry. “Oh God, I made you share a room with him. I am sorry baby, I'll sort that out, make him sleep with William or something.” She rolled her eyes.

“It's okay, he's nice actually. Not what you'd imagine him to be like.” His voice was weak, comfirming his mother primary suspiscions. “Oh my God, Louis, do you like him or something?” She looked worried. “Mum-no, of course not.” She then sighed in relief. “He's quite the pretty one. I am afraid the girls will like him. I mean, I'd like him if I was into younger boys.” She admitted with a shrug.

“Thanks goodness you're not.”

She winked at him. “We never know.” Louis only laughed before earing two high-pitched voices call his name. He didn't have time to react before feeling arms wrap around him and kisses cut his breath. Sweet and fruity fragrances filled his nostrils, reminding him of home. For the moment, he forgot about Harry and his father to spend the afternoon with his mother and sisters, to hear about their shopping spree in LA, school gossip and their new pug.

*

When Louis entered his room, he hoped Harry wouldn't be there. He called his name and received no answers which set his hopes up before getting them down as he saw the boy buried in the silky sheets covering the bed, a carnival-like sleeping mask on top of his eyes and what seemed like a facial white-ish cream or mask covering the other parts of his face. He didn't bother take the other pillows off the bed and slept surrounded by them, even hugging some of them against his bare chest.

As if hearing Louis' steps around the room, he removed the mask and took a look at the boy in front of him, before coming back to his previous state. “Don't wake me up for dinner.” He mumbled. His voice was throaty, as if he was sick, Louis noticed.

“Okay.” Louis whispered, almost to himself before taking some clothes from his own luggage and entering the bathroom. Around the sink, he found plenty of creams and skincare products, perfume bottles, wipes and a toothbrush. He smiled fainlty as he looked at them, telling himself that that boy was surely obsessed with his own looks.

Louis rapidly changed his clothes and brushed his teeth before getting out of the bathroom and took one of the couches, since the bed was obviously occupied. He was making himself comfortable, trying to find the perfect position to nap in when Harry's voice was heard again. “We can share the bed, if you want. There's plenty of space."

Louis didn't answer so Harry took that for a rejection, until he felt the covers slowly lift and the bed lightly creak under the new weight that has been added on it. Harry shifted to the right, making more room for Louis to sleep in and waited a few minutes before trying to sit up. He removed his sleeping mask then reached for a towel he had prepared on his bedside table. It was obviously damp since it erased the dried cream on his face.

It all happened without one of them saying a word.

Louis looked at Harry once and it was enough for him to notice a small bluish bruise on his cheek which he did not have earlier. “Your... cheek.” Louis couldn't help himself. “I ran into the glass door of the balcony.” Louis only nodded before laying down and focusing his attention on his phone. A few minutes were enough to have him drift to sleep, a sleep from which he woke up to find two slender arms wrapped around his waist.

It felt wrong but so good.

Louis wished for Harry to never let go.

 


	9. Chapter 9.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some snu-snu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so unedited bc i was so exited about posting it and its like 3 am where i live so i'll go to sleep and then i'll fix stuff!

“So, Harry was it? What are you studying at university. You're on your first year, aren't you?” Louis' mother asked, the moment he sat on the breakfast table, right next to Louis, a few chairs away from from William. He took his time to answer her, which she clearly took as an offense.

“No. Not in university.” He answered shortly, shutting his mouth just at the moment when one of Louis' sisters asked someone next to her: “Is he seriously wearing nail polish?” She immediately turned a bright red when realizing that she wasn't exactly discrete about it. “Yes, I am seriously wearing nail polish.” He gave her a death stare that made the red in her cheeks grow even brighter.

Louis' mother stared at her son, not exactly happy about Harry's attitude. Louis could do nothing more than avoid her eyes and stare at his full breakfast plate, instead, a bit embarrassed. “When will the show start?” Harry spoke, apparently realizing that he should drop his boldness. Louis' mother stared at her watch, deciding to make peace too. “In three hours. I hope you'll be enjoying it. I guess you're interested in fashion, aren't you?” She already noticed his odd, yet very pretty fashion sense since the day before. It was even more apparent in the floral chinoiserie silk pants he so tastefully associated with a simple khaki t-shirt and a baby blue neckerchief that he wrapped around his neck, creating a casual yet gracious look.

“No, not really.” He tried to give a warm smile but his mouth would only come up with a smirk. “Oh, shame. You know, you could be a model. You're tall, lean, good-looking.” Harry started laughing, as he has never heard the compliment before, well he heard the last three, but nobody ever compared him to a model. “Oh, are you flirting with me now?” He grinned, raising his cup of orange juice and taking a sip out of it. Everybody felt awkward after his words, especially William who shocked on his croissant and started to cough uncontrollably.

Luckily, Louis' mother followed his joke and smiled back at the cheeky teenager. “Not into younger boys, sorry. I mean you're younger than Louis, it's a little bit inappropriate, isn't it?” By saying this, she was discreetly throwing shade at her ex-husband, who was still awkwardly coughing his lungs out. “Love knows no age.” Harry shrugged smugly before adding. “But, I myself prefer brunettes, actually.” In that moment, his knee softly subbed against Louis' who instantly felt a rush down his spine.

“So, you and Louis are like, dating?” Louis' other sister, probably the younger one who has been quiet during the whole breakfast, -Harry couldn't really tell who was the oldest, honestly, they looked like twins-, asked. “Phoebe--” Louis gritted through his teeth, as if they have already gone through the topic and Louis forbid her from asking any questions. “No- Just friends, really.” Harry wished he could add something flirty, hinting at the fact that he actually liked Louis, but William's presence made it impossible.

“Well, I actually have to go. Please, carry on with breakfast. Charlotte, will you follow me?” Louis' mother excused herself, and so did her eldest daughter who left the table after giving Harry an awkward glance. More people started leaving after that, Harry and Louis did the same, shortly followed by William. They all took the same elevator. The presence of other strangers made the time go by faster and the whole ride up a bit less suffocating. Everybody was silent. Since William's room was a floor higher than Louis', Harry was ready to leave once the elevator's doors opened, just like Louis did, when he felt a strong grip around his wrist, stopping him from getting past the people in front of him.

Louis got confused when he realized that Harry wouldn't join him, forgetting for a small moment that Harry wasn't actually his secret lover but his father's.

William dragged Harry out and only released his hand once in front of his own hotel room. “What is this about?” William opened the door and ordered him in. Harry looked at him defiantly but gave in and entered the room, eventually. The older man slammed the door behind him. “I shouldn't have brought you here.”

“Why not?” Harry did not want this to blow out of proportion, and wished it would end fast so he wouldn't have to stand William's presence longer. “Do you crave attention? Would just- just try for once to be discrete!? Would it kill you not to have every eye on you?” Harry must admit that he was attention loving, but honestly, who wasn't? But it was never a problem before.

“You just want to find a reason to yell at me, now.” Harry rolled his eyes, keeping his smug posture and expression. “No, I am clearing things out with you. We're coming back right after that damned show ends.” He spat, pointing a threatening finger towards the younger boy. “I'll come back when I'll want to.” Harry did not intimidate William, who did the unthinkable, as he quickly stepped forward, to Harry's direction and backhanded his lightly bruised cheekbone. The moment he realized what happened, Harry froze, a horrified expression on his face. “Quit the fucking attitude and stop talking back to me.” William spoke through gritted teeth. Harry did not hear him over his mind screaming at him to flee William's toxic before it gets worse, which he did. He ran away, still in chock. It wouldn't be the first time somebody would hit him, he just never thought William would do it, no matter how fucked up their sexual life was. He never got violent outside of the bedroom.

His face was expressionless when Louis opened the door for him. One of his cheeks was brighter than the other and it did nothing but awaken some more doubts inside Louis who remained quiet while Harry made his way towards the bathroom. He locked the door and stood right in front of the mirror above the sink. His bit his lip as he stared at his reflection, hating himself for not slapping William back. He has had enough of being stepped on, he didn't want for people to find new ways to humiliate him.

He wanted to get angry, to break that mirror, shout, cry, yell profanities, pull his hair and kick the tub, but finally decided against getting overly emotional. He would enjoy Louis' attention, yes, but he didn't want to earn that attention in such a way. It was really against his urges not to play the victim.

Instead of letting it all out, he reached for a toilet bag that he previously placed on a shelf right between the mirror and the sink and tried to hide the marks on his face as much as he could. He really was no make-up expert, so he took quite some time to get it right.

When he got out, Louis was sitting by the bed, his face glued on his phone, not really interested in anything happening around him. Harry gulped, as he has been expecting at least some kind of word from him, anything.

He opened his wardrobe and grabbed the clothes he carefully chose to wear for the fashion show. All black: black shirt, black skinny jeans, black boots. Then he added a hint of gold, by adding a black jacket with golden embroideries and a gold leaf headband that he placed carefully on top of his delicate curls.

He, of course, made sure to dress right in front of Louis, who remained indifferent, no matter how seductively he tried to act.

“How do you like my crown?” He asked him once he finally wore it on. “I-I don't know about it.” His voice was monotone and he only took a second to check what Harry was talking about. “Did I do something?”

“No.” Harry dropped it since Louis was obviously not interested in discussing those matters. “I'll go check the stuff downstairs. You're not coming?” Louis only shook his head, making Harry sigh before leaving. He took the elevator, passing by as much people as possible, to see their reactions concerning his outfit. Most of the reactions pleased him. He received numerous compliments from strangers and arrived to the place where the show was held, inside the hotel, right by the pool.

Benches were placed all around the pool where a wooden runway was floating. It was quite pretty, Harry thought before grabbing a small croissant from a buffet nearby. He kept strolling around until he caught sight of a little sign where “Backstage” was written. He entered the room, which was probably the pool's changing room.

At first he was timid, as he found himself caught between busy designers, hair dressers, make-up artists, models and assistants. He only observed quietly, hoping, for the first time, that nobody would notice him and force him to leave. He focused his attention for a moment on one of the models, probably recognizing her from some magazine, and felt jealous of the attention surrounding her. She was sitting on top of a comfortable chair, a man spraying her hair with some kind of glitter, two women perfecting her make up while she was on her phone, probably taking pictures of herself to keep her social media accounts updated.

He imagined himself, for a small second, her place, as Louis' mother's words kept rewinding inside his head.

“Harry?” Well, speaking of the devil. Harry turned around, trying to swallow the pastry that was still in his mouth to apologize about being there without proper permission. “Miss-” He started before stopping awkwardly, realizing that he didn't even know what to call her. “Oh, please, just call me Julia.” He only smiled awkwardly. She then swiftly, and unexpectedly, passed her hand around his arm, almost forcing him to walk along side her.

Harry knew european people were weird, but he didn't think they were this touchy and personal. While her simple gesture felt natural for her, he almost started sweating, hoping nobody would see them, especially not William. “So, Harry. What are you doing backstage?”

She didn't give him enough time to reply because she had already found a new thing to say. “Your father is Christian Ford, right?” Harry nodded weakly. “Your sisters are Phoebe's age, aren't they?” Harry truly started to sweat when realizing that Julia knew who the Fords were. She probably also knew that they didn't have a son. “I don't have any sisters. That's- my uncle.” His lie didn't exactly add up but she seemed to be convinced anyway.

They made it outside. Harry could finally breathe properly. “Have we ever met before? You seem very familiar. Since the first time I saw you. It's like I knew you. As a kid, maybe?” Harry shrugged. “Maybe.” By the time he answered, they were strolling around the pool, getting mixed up with the guests that were slowly arriving. “May I ask you about Louis?” Her voice seemed hesitant but somehow, he knew that it was all acting. It was as if she tried to engage all this conversation to arrive to that specific point.

“What about him?” Harry cleared his throat. “It's obvious there is something between you two.” She lightly nudged him using her elbow. He coughed. “No, nothing.” She sighed. “Well, I mean, there is chemistry between you two.” Harry was starting to feel more than uneasy. His cheeks were flushed, he could feel it. “I don't see it.”

“Would you engage in something- I mean, are you interested? Because he does seem interested to me.” He didn't know where she wanted to go with her words. “Did he say it, though? That he's interested.” He couldn't see her smirk but he could feel it. “Well, a mother always knows. I wouldn't give you this talk if I weren't certain.”

Harry remained silent for a moment. “You're available, at least? I mean you don't have a boyfriend? A girlfriend of some sort?” Harry was too quick to deny and claim that he was as free as a bird. She nodded. “Well, don't hurt my boy.” She gave his forearm a small, cheeky slap, before letting go of his arm. “And this is the place where you'll be sitting. Louis is right next to you.” She winked at him and made sure he was comfortable before walking away, her heels clicking against the marble floor with every step.

Harry could finally breathe properly.

-

A soft music was all that could be heard in the background as people shattered about the show, posed for photographs and tasted every delicacy placed in the buffet.

Charlotte's soft blue eyes were looking for her father, so she could ask him about whether he liked what she designed or not, and also to tell him that she'd be visiting him in a few days. She spotted him next to the buffet, awkwardly standing, right beside Harry.

Harry. Something was fishy about that boy, she was certain. He appeared out of nowhere, it seemed. Louis has never talked about him while they skyped, a bit odd, she thought, since he was used to tell her everything happening in her life. Also, his attitude, his style, how he carried himself, it all looked unnatural, as if he were acting. She also noticed some strange tension between him and her own father, a tension that were even more intense now that they were standing together, trying to communicate discreetly.

Her father walked away, entering the reception. Harry waited a minute before following him, looking around him suspiciously. Charlotte started to worry. She tried to convince herself that it was only a coincidence, that she might be imagining things, but her curiousity took the best of her. She left the after-party and went Harry's direction, trying to make no noise.

She saw them take the lift together. I stopped right in her father's floor which she went up to, a few moments later. Once the doors opened in front of her, her hesitant legs took the left corridor, going directly towards her father's room. By the time she arrived, the door was already shut.

It didn't stop her from gluing her ear to the door, trying to catch as much of their conversation as she could. The sounds were muffled but once one of them shouted, she jumped a little, wondering what the hell was happening inside. “I came here as Louis' friend, I'll be coming back with Louis. The fucking end!” It was not her father's familiar voice. “Will you fucking stop?” Now, that was William's voice. “No, I won't stop. I am not your property! You don't fucking control me!” Harry words made no sense inside her mind.

The voices lowered a bit, making her unable to hear, once again. The next thing she heard was steps approaching. “A goodbye kiss, at least?” The voice was now clear, calm and sounded defeated. Charlotte stepped away, both horrified and surprised about what she just witnessed. So many questions were popping inside her head.

When the door opened, she was a few feet away from it. She hoped nobody would notice her but Harry, who was the only person out, saw her, passed right by her and only flipped his hair as a reaction to her presence, leaving her more confused than ever.

*

“You didn't leave.” Louis commented after his father's departure. “No.” His voice was barely audible, since he was buried between the sheets, no part from his body appearing to Louis' eye, not even his face. “Why not?” Harry didn't answer. Louis didn't insist. He changed his clothes then got out again.

Once he heard the door being shut, Harry got out of bed, angry at himself for wasting so much time and effort on trying to get Louis' attention even more but failing miserably. Those self-inflicted punches and scratches were all for nothing.

Well, of course, Harry had to blow everything out of proportion. William slapped him once, Harry had to make it look bigger, to tell Louis:”See, this is what I went through to stay here with you!”. The best way to do that, in his opinion, was to punch his face a few times, try to make a small part of his lip bleed, create a few blues here and there on his arm, all while making sure he would still be able to hide it all. Of course, he'd blame it on William. The side Louis will choose after that was too obvious, so the pain he went through was worth it.

But now, he didn't even try to talk to him and it outraged him. He was so pissed off that he decided to call Louis and pour all of his anger in that phone call. “Harry?”

“Come back here.” He tried to make his voice as calm as possible.

“What?”

“I stayed here to be with you. You can't just leave me here alone!”

“Harry, I am spending time with my sisters.” Louis was whispering. “You've spent your whole fucking life with them!” Harry spat angrily. “I am not ready for one of your scenes Harry, goodbye.” Louis' words were even more painful than any slap. Louis only realized their weight when he returned, a bit tipsy from spending too much time in the hotel's bar, talking to his mum, then, alone, thinking about things.

It was way past midnight when he entered the room, a few bags between his lean fingers, which he placed at the entrance, before rushing to the toilet to relieve himself. Unfortunately for him, the door was locked. He knocked a few times. “Harry, this is not funny.” He spoke in a bored tone. “Harry, stop being a fucking kid. I'm going to piss myself.” The knocking got pretty violent.

He finally opened and Louis had some pretty sharp reflexes, since he stopped his fist from hitting Harry right in the chest as he was prepared to knock even louder. Louis noticed that he only had a towel around his body, wet hair and skin, but what struck him the most was the apparent bruises all over the younger boy's right part of his body. He frowned in confusion.

“What happened?”

Harry looked at him with void eyes.

“Nothing.” He mumbled before walking away and crashing on the bed. Louis completely forgot about the bathroom. “Harry, what happened?”

“I fell, okay? Now, drop it.”

Suspicions started to build up inside Louis' mind. He decided to leave Harry alone for a moment and locked himself in the bathroom where he could think clearly. The scenario felt familiar. The same thing used to happen to his mother and she always explained it the same way Harry did. It made Louis hate his father during his teenage years, but he forgot about it since his mother did as well, after the divorce. Now, seeing Harry in that state brought up some pretty bitter memories, making Louis hate himself for leaving Harry alone for the whole afternoon. He also understood Harry's anger during the phone call, which made him feel even guiltier for having been so insensitive.

“Harry, I am sorry for-” Louis started to apologize but stopped to catch his breath once he was faced with an unexpected scene. Harry fell asleep and the knot securing the towel loosened, uncovering every inch of his soft skin and making Louis loose every one of his words. He was laying on his stomach, looking raw and fragile at the same time, making his heart race and his cock twitch.

He stood there for a moment, as if mesmerized by what his eyes were on before finally snapping back to reality. He rubbed his eyes then lowered them, before looking for spare sheets inside the closet. Once he found one, he carefully approached Harry and delicately placed the fabric over his body. This simple gesture made him open his eyes slightly. His stare made Louis feel shitty. It was as if even his eyes blamed him for leaving him alone in a time where he needed some comfort.

“I waited for you to come back.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Sorry is not enough.” It felt like Harry was trying to swallow his tears. Louis sat by the bed, ruffling his hair, guilt eating him from the inside. “How can I make it up to you, then?” He asked, avoiding eye contact. Harry sat up and immediately after that, Louis felt two hands wrap around his own. “Make me forget about this.” It was as if Harry assumed that Louis guessed what supposedly happen.

“How?” Louis asked almost timidly, finally finding the courage to look right into Harry's eyes. “Make love to me.” Harry whispered, his sensual voice sending shivers down Louis' spine. Before Louis could even refuse his offer, Harry added arguments to convince him. “You want it, I want it. What else matters?”

“We can't.” Louis whispered in a cracked voice, forcing himself to close his eyes and try to focus on anything but the blood rushing down his body. “We can.” Harry argued in a calm voice, his fingers' grip getting tighter around Louis' hand. Louis' eyes fluttered open. “I've never done it with a guy before.” Louis admitted, gulping loudly from the embarrassment he was feeling.

“You don't want your first time to be with me?” Harry sounded a bit hurt as he removed his hands, placing them over his lap instead. Louis was surprised from his assumption, which has never even crossed his mind. “No-No, it's not that-”

“I mean, if I were you, I would want to loose it to somebody like me. You're right. Save it for somebody special and all that shit.” Harry's Adam apple moved up and down inside his neck, as if he was trying to swallow words, or tears. “No, I promise. I don't-”

“Forget about it. I'll just-I'll just sleep on the couch.”

Harry's feet reached the floor, his fingers grabbing the sheet around him to cover his naked figure as he got ready to stand up. “I want it.” Louis said, making him freeze. “I want it to be with you. I am just worried I'll be shit at it.” Louis confessed. Harry's face lit up in satisfaction but also in pure, raw joy. “You won't.” He said, trying to talk as clearly as he could over the constant smile tracing his lips.

“Will you guide me, then?” Louis smiled as well, taking a few seconds to stare into Harry's eyes which seemed brighter than ever. “Yeah-Yeah, sure. I'll just go grab some- things.” He got up and run towards the bathroom, still hiding under the sheet Louis brought him. He took quite some time there.

When he returned, Louis noticed that he hid the bruise on his face, wore some kind of white, ruffle panties and was struggling to hold some stuff he brought with him. Louis who has done nothing but stress out and overthink everything stood to his feet to help him with all the items. A condom, lube and a shitload of candles, which Louis thought to be silly but kept his mouth shut anyway.

“You haven't changed your mind?” Harry asked when Louis grabbed two or three of the candles. “No.” Louis replied confidently, nibbling on his lower lip. Harry placed the candles on top of the bedside tables, shut most of the lights, leaving only one above the bed, and Louis had to admit it smelled and looked nice. A bit sappy, but nice nonetheless.

“Come here.” Harry whispered, sitting at the edge of the bed, urging Louis to sit right in front of him. The latter obeyed and sat on his knees, before Harry placed each one of his legs on one side. “I can't believe I am doing it.” Louis said, almost to himself, but Harry heard, didn't know how to take it and finally brushed it off.

Louis leaned slightly towards Harry and gave him mouth a little, shy kiss that made Harry smile and peck him back. Harry even ended up abandoning his sitting position with spread legs to adopt the same position as Louis, lowering their height difference and making it easier for Harry to kiss him.

Throughout the sweet make out session that consisted of small pecks all around each other's faces and necks, Harry kept feeling all tingly and happy inside and couldn't help but ask himself if he liked Louis more than he thought, if he actually loved Louis. It did feel like what he read about love and for some reason, he didn't feel worried or scared but more relaxed and blissful than ever.

The dim light made their sensations even more intense, and the lightest touch, the slightest kiss made their senses go wilder than they already were.

When the kisses deepened, Harry couldn't help but let a tear out that Louis' hand that cupped his cheeks felt immediately. He broke it and stared at him in shock, not understanding what was happening. “What? Go on.” Harry acted normally, as if himself didn't feel the wetness on his cheeks. It was the emotion, the freshness of the feeling of being appreciated, something he never experienced before. People have never treated him so gently, people never cared about initiating things slowly, about making him feel comfortable and relaxed. It was so new to him and he wished it'd never end.

Once he swallowed all of the emotion, he grabbed the hem of Louis' shirt, lifting it above his head and leaving his hair all messed up and ruffled. “I am not in the best shape.” Louis couldn't help but say, feeling a bit self-conscious about his body, especially next to Harry who seemed to be sculpted by the finest artist that ever walked on earth. “You're perfect.” Harry breathed nest to his ear before nibbling it gently and sucking on the skin beside it, leaving a reddish mark that wouldn't last long. His mouth then moved lower and lower, planting pecks all over his tan torso. Harry felt Louis' hands play with his hair and kiss the top of it from time to time. When he arrived to the older boy's happy trail, he pressed his hands on his chest, forcing him to lay on his back.

Harry then swiftly grabbed the bottle of lube and the condom, ripped the case with his teeth and just before placing the ring between his teeth thought about making some comment about it being William's size, but decided to keep his mouth shut, knowing Louis didn't exactly like his dry humour.

With his teeth holding the condom, Harry unzipped Louis' pants and lowered them, taking off his underwear as well, on his way, revealing a semi-erect shaft and making Louis' cheeks flush even harder. Harry's dimples showed as he clearly noticed Louis' shyness as he moved his right hand towards the base of his penis, still holding the condom with his mouth. His palm ran back and forth, up and down, slowly and gently, trying to harden him some more. It did work, especially witth the small rubs Harry's thumb made all over his tip, which made Louis' insides flame up.

Harry then lowered his head, approaching his mouth from the fully erect penis, which he still steadily held between his hand. A little moan escaped Louis' mouth when Harry's lips wrapped around his tip and started rolling the condom all the way down, which was a bit impressive since Louis was pretty sure that Harry's mouth reached the base of his shaft before sucking on it, his cheeks getting hollowed as he worked his way up. Louis couldn't imagine doing something like that without chocking and running out of breath.

“Do you want to do it or-” Harry then asked, his voice a bit throaty, as he grabbed the bottle of lube. Louis tried to sit up, still a bit dazed, to give Harry a questioning look. “I don't really know- how to-”

“Just like- like you'd do for a girl, maybe? Like- use fingers?” Harry guessed that it wasn't Louis' first time ever, remembering William talking about some of Louis' girlfriends in highschool before he came out. “Okay.” Louis' was stinging him a bit but he knew he had to wait more so that everything would be perfect. Harry quickly got on all fours, letting Louis act all alone this time, without more guidance.

It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Louis lowered the cute underwear, uncovering an even cuter pair of buttcheeks. They felt as soft as a baby's skin, they were pale and curved, even prettier than he imagined. A kiss was placed one one of them which made Harry giggle, perhaps was he ticklish, Louis thought. He then applied some of the lube, which felt like baby oil around the hole before proceeding to massage it. Harry's muscles relaxed under his touch so much that his confidence started building up again. He slowly inserted his index finger, adding more and more lube and waited a bit before starting to move it.

Harry was burying his head in the pillows, his teeth biting his lips, unable to understand how he was feeling more pleasure with a simple fingering than he ever did. Louis added his middle finger and Harry's back arched. A small muffled moan was heard, satisfying Louis.

Harry's own erection was building up and he had to stop Louis' fingers to actually engage in the serious business. Louis removed his fingers and waited for Harry to turn around and lay on his back, his hair all spread out on the pillow beneath him, his face flushed and already sweaty. Fuck, he looked so beautiful Louis forgot himself for a while. “Go slowly, yeah?” He spoke in a broken voice, a small smile never leaving his face.

Harry's legs were spread in front of him, waiting for Louis to approach so they can wrap around him. Louis was hesitant but seeing the apprehension and impatience on Harry's face, decided to give it a go. Harry closed his eyes when he felt the tip penetrate him. His muscles clenched for a moment, forcing Louis to stop, before relaxing again. That was his green light. He added more length, each inch making Harry's helpless grip around the sheets beneath him tighter.

“Does it hurt?” Louis asked, as he couldn't guess if Harry's reaction was out of pain or pleasure. Harry shook his head, lying a bit, because it was a mix of both. The pain resulting from his last session with William was still there but he tried to ignore it as well as he could. “You can m-move.” Harry groaned and he instantly started feeling small back and forth motions inside him and hands wrap around his own hard cock.

Louis tried to multitask and was quite good at it, for a beginner. He picked up the pace and tried to hold himself long enough to have Harry get off too. The younger boy was tight around him and with every thrust, he felt himself closer to the extreme pleasure. As if the sight of Harry trying to contain himself was not enough to send him to heaven. He really did try to lengthen it, leaning in to kiss the whimpering boy beneath him, slowing down from time to time and perfecting his handjob. “F-Fuck!” Harry and Louis would both swear under their breath when the build up would start t feel to overwhelming. Apart from that, they didn't talk much, and it was probably for the better.

When Harry's cock twitched between his fingers, Louis finally let himself go, thrusting deep and fast, making Harry's attempts at shutting his moans vain. Louis came a few seconds before Harry followed him to cloud nine.

It was better than anything Louis ever experienced, since it took him quite some time to come back from the part of heaven where he ascended in that moment. Out of breath and sweaty, he gave one more sloppy thrust before removing his softening shaft and letting himself fall on his back, right beside Harry, whose legs were slowly shaking from the orgasm. When he finally opened his eyes, Harry tried to sit up and wipe his stomach, using the tissues placed by his side of the bed.

Still feeling hazy, he came back to his previous place and waited for Louis to say something. The latter removed the condom, knotted it and threw it in a trash can a few feet away from the bed. Louis didn't speak but kissed Harry's sweaty forehead instead before wrapping his arms around his naked body and embracing him tight.

Harry couldn't help but start crying at the simple gesture. He hated himself from getting so emotional but it was just stronger than him. Nobody has ever treated him as such and it felt so strange not to be forgotten right after the other one came.

Louis felt him crying but didn't ask questions he knew Harry would never answer. He patiently waited for him to calm down before loosening his hold around him. “I don't cry after sex.” Harry laughed, as he wiped his wet cheeks, a bit embarrassed about the situation. “It's okay.”

Now that Louis came back from his cloud, so many negative things started popping inside his head, on top of them, jealousy. He started remembering how well Harry knew what he was doing, as if he was an expert. It made him wonder about Harry's experiences, which, at the same time, he didn't want to hear about. Harry has probably been with so many men that he lost count. Louis would just be another name on his list, nothing more. He'd be soon forgotten.

Louis hummed when hearing Harry talk without him grasping his exact words. “I just wanted to know which is better? With a girl or a boy?” Louis smiled once he heard the shy question. “Definitely better with a boy.” Harry smiled. They spent a moment in complete silence.

“Harry, can I ask you something?” Harry nodded, as he carefully traced circular figures on Louis' chest, using his fingers while feeling lean fingers play with his soft locks. “When was your first time?”

“When I was sixteen.” Harry was lying. Louis was certain. He always spoke quickly, creating a fake spontaneous effect, whenever he told lies. “With whom?”

“You don't know him.”

“Did you break up with my father?” Louis added, mentally begging Harry to give him the answer he wanted to hear. “Not officially, but I am planning on never seeing him again.”

“Good.”

Louis felt a small peck on his skin before the circular motions stopped. Not long after, soft snores were heard. Harry drifted to sleep, leaving plenty of time for Louis to overthink the whole situation, again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope the smut wasn't boring. i am shit at writing smut, i know. also, some parts of this chapter may seem unnecessary but everything will play a role in what is to come okayy???


	10. Chapter 10.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit hits the fan.

“That boy is a liar. He is not who he pretends to be.” Louis' mother went straight to the topic, her hand stressfully gripping her martini glass. Louis didn't look at her. “You knew it.” She quickly guessed from her son's silence. “You knew he was playing with your dad.” Louis gulped down his drink, trying to find courage in alcohol.

“I can't believe you.” Julia stated, passing her hand through her blonde locks. “He's playing with your head, too. Do you even realize it?” Louis carried on avoiding any form of eye contact between them. He also discreetly asked the bartender to refill his glass of whiskey.

“Louis, I'm talking to you.” His mother's voice got severe. “I am hearing you.” He mumbled. “Do you have anything to say, then?” She was already getting exasperated by her son's stubbornness. “Yes, he's not what he pretends to be. Is that what you want to hear?” Louis' voice was low, almost ashamed. “Your father doesn't know?”

“Why are you so fucking interested with my father?”

“I am interested in your relationship with him getting ruined over some lying, cheap-”

“Don't speak of him like that.” Louis interrupted her, making her jaw fall. “You're defending him now?” She spoke in shock, feeling an urge to knock some sense into her son. “He has his reasons.” Julia closed her eyes for a second, trying not to create a scandal, not believing how Louis could be so fucking naive.

“Louis, you're going to tell me everything you know about that boy, now.”

Louis didn't exactly have a choice.

“What's his real name?” Of course she knew he wasn't a Ford. She knew the Fords, they had a unique son, who was a lawyer and himself had twins who were girls, so Harry's story didn't add up. “Styles, Harry.” Louis witnessed his mother's expression go from anger to confusion, passing by reflection then pure shock. “Styles?” She repeated, her eyebrows furrowing in worry.

“His brother is that psycho that shot people inside the church.” Louis gave further explanations, his voice cold as well as his attitude. “Louis. Stay away from that boy, please.” Louis' head lowered once he heard his mother's plea. “Louis, please, if you love me, don't ever think of that boy again.” Her voice was getting throathy, as if she were trying to swallow her tears. Louis ignored her words, taking them for fear over Harry's brother's dark past. She held his hands between hers. “Please. Stay away from him.”

Louis only rolled his eyes.

“I'll give your dad a phonecall.” She spoke in a serious voice as she put a few bills on the bar's counter and grabbed her purse, ready to go. “No!” Louis grabbed her arm. She raised her eyebrow at him, thinking he was still trying to defend that boy. “No. I'll tell dad. You shouldn't get inside this mess.”

“Louis, if you don't tell him-” She started to threaten him but he gave her an understanding nod that reassured her a bit.

*

Julia was worried. She now recognized the boy and was afraid everything she was concerned about would happen. It was unfair, really, because she never agreed to mutilate that boy. First of all, because he wasn't aware of what was happening around him and never gave consent himself, but also because she knew he'd grow up, find out and seek to hurt her and her family in a worse way that they did.

She slowly started analyzing every aspect of the situation and came to a conclusion. Harry's revenge would probably be ruining Louis' and William's relationship, all while milking money out of the both of them. Suddenly, everything Louis told her about Harry, or everything she witnessed him doing was starting to make sense. That boy was evil and smart. How he managed to foul William, to make Louis like him to the point where he'll defend him despite all his dirty laundry, to even create some kind of tension between Louis and Charlotte was impressive.

Julia started regretting even talking to Harry about Louis, she wanted to know if the boy would go as far as initiating something with Louis while he was obviously committed in another relationship, but now she was starting to realize that she has encouraged him to do it, if he hasn't already.

True, her family wasn't as strong as it used to be, but it was still her family and she would never allow somebody to ruin her kids' relationship with each other or with their father.

She tried to join Louis on his cellphone, but it clearly put on silent since he wouldn't answer while it rang. Half an hour and a few glasses of wine later, she received a call from her son. She answered immediately. “Yes mum? You've been calling?”

She cleared her throat, not sure about how she'd deal with the mess. “Is that boy next to you?” She almost whispered, making Louis frown. He looked down to find a peacefully asleep Harry right beside him. “He's sleeping.” He murmured back. “Come to my room, we need to talk.”

“Can't it wait?”

“No, it can't.”

Louis sighed. “Okay. I'll be there in two.” He then ended the call, wasted a few seconds simply staring at Harry's angelic features with conflicted emotions before standing up. Harry's eyes fluttered open and confusion settle don his face when he saw Louis trying to dress as fast as possible. “Where to?” He asked with a deep, sleepy voice. “Nowhere. Just go back to sleep.” Louis didn't really like the way he talked to Harry but he just couldn't help being insensitive and cold, sometimes, as if his fondness wasn't enough to erase all the prejudices following the younger boy. Sometimes, he'd even find himself thinking of him as cheap and greedy and he'd hate himself for those thoughts, because he knew, in the bottom of his heart, that Harry was genuine with him.

“I'll be back in a few.” He tried to sound more affectionate. “Okay.” Harry finally smiled before putting his head back on the pillow. He was about to close his eyes and drift back to sleep when he felt a small peck on his forehead that awakened every butterfly inside his stomach.

When Louis exited the place, his phone started ringing again, and it was Charlotte calling, this time. “Yes?” He answered, already preparing himself to give her a lecture about staying up that late in the night. “Louis, you're not asleep?” She sounded hesitant. “What does it look like to you?” He responded, rolling his eyes, trying to lower his voice as mush as he could.

“Can I come to your room- Or, no, no! You come to mine!”

“I am a bit busy right now. Look, we'll talk in the morning.”

“It can't wait!” Her voice went high making him get the phone away from his ear. “I'll come at yours when I am done.” He ended the call quickly and continued walking until he arrived in front of his mother's room. He knocked at the door and didn't have to wait long. She opened, a cup of dark red wine between her fingers, then let him in.

“So, what is it about?” He asked after taking a seat on a sofa right in front of her bed. “That Harry-” She started, almost letting her glass slip out of her hand. “Mum, we've talked about this.” He interrupted her, already feeling exasperated with her speeches and accusations. “No, listen to me.” She sat right beside him, gently placing her glass on top of the coffee table. “Mum-” He sighed before feeling her lean fingers on his own chin, forcing him to look at her.

“I know you like that boy and that is exactly his goal. Louis, that boy is trying to poison your relationship with your father. He wants to ruin our family.” Her eyes were desperate, creating a real contrast with Louis' indifferent ones. “Dad already ruined our family.”

“You don't understand- Harry is a liar.”

“You already said that.” Louis rolled his eyes. “No-You don't understand! Look, do you remember Charlotte's kidney transplant?” Louis concluded that his mother was either drunk or completely out of her mind. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just answer me! Do you remember that little boy, the one who gave her the kidney?”

“No- Not really.” He agreed to give her the answer she was seeking, curious to see where her questions would lead him. “That boy is now Harry.” Louis' eyes widened in surprise before softening in amusement. “Is this a joke?” He laughed in disbelief, beginning to think that his mother was seriously paranoid. “No!” She yelled to his face. Her state was worse than he thought, she was literally delusional. “Mum, look, I know you're worried and all that, but it doesn't add up. How do you even remember him?”

“I remembered his name. It stuck with me, it haunted me- I felt guilty and still do, for what we did to that little boy. But Harry is not that little boy anymore and-” The way her jaw was shaking made it impossible to speak further. “Mum, I think you're just tired. You know this is too much of a crazy coincidence. It can't just happen.” Louis was trying to reason her, to keep his cool and use his brain. His mother would just not have it. “That's the thing Louis, it's not a coincidence!”

That was when everything sunk inside Louis.

“He's been manipulating you and your father since the beginning! He's a vicious little demon. He wants revenge over us, I swear it. Louis, don't fall into his trap, please. Tell your father and avoid that evil-”

“No-No. He's not- It's not possible.”

“Just think about it some more. Please, get away from that boy. Don't even share his room tonight. I don't want him to hurt you.”

Louis' mouth opened to speak up but no words got out. Everything was stuck inside his throat.

“I am sorry. You deserve a much better lover than that lying scum.” His mother spoke up, finally reaching for her glass which she emptied before standing up. “Do you want to spend the night here?” She then suggested. Louis shook his head, still trying to swallow everything his mother told him. “I'll just- I'll go.”

Louis' mind was a blur as he walked through the long corridor leading to his own room. He rewinded every word his mother said and came to the conclusion that he already knew most of what she told him. Harry was a liar, a manipulator, a sadist but he already knew that. He knew it and he still found himself craving the younger boy's affection and attention. However, it still felt like a slap to know that Harry had other motives. He remembered Harry telling him about his mother's illness. Was that even true?

Louis thought Harry didn't lie a lot, at least not to him. Harry himself told him. Louis felt stupid. He believed a liar telling him he did not lie. How dumb was that of him?

He abruptly stopped when passing by Charlotte's room, remembering her call. Louis took a deep breath before knocking. Again, just like his mother, Charlotte seemed to be waiting for him.

*

Harry's eyes fluttered open and the first thing they saw was a fully awake Louis. “Hey.” He whispered, still trying to get both of his eyes to open properly. “Hi.” Louis said shortly, never looking at his direction, and keeping instead, all of his attention on some book he was reading. Harry let out a sigh. It was no use talking to Louis when he was acting odd, so he just got out of the bed to head towards the bathroom. There he washed his face and brushed his teeth, all while looking closely to his bruises that were healing fast enough. In less than a week, his face would be completely clear.

“Would you order room service for breakfast?” He shouted, hoping Louis would hear him, while he started running a bath. Louis didn't answer but Harry heard him speak to the restaurant through the room's landline. A few moments after, it was a knock that Harry heard on the bathroom's door. “Come in.”

Louis opened the door the moment Harry removed his underwear, ready to dive into that hot, bubbly bath. “I'll come back later.” Louis mumbled upon noticing that Harry was not exactly decent. “Really, we're getting all formal now?” He turned around, making Louis look away. “We just fucked yesterday, you can look at me, for fuck's sake!”

“I wasn't in my right mind, yesterday.”

“It doesn't seem like you're in your right mind today, either.”

“I am, actually.”

Harry only rolled his eyes at him, before returning to his bath. He entered it, ignoring Louis who remained right in front of the door, as if frozen. Harry didn't have much dignity, really, so he never really minded the harsh way Louis spoke at him. “Are you going to stand there forever? This tub has enough room for two.” Harry didn't really have high hopes. It was just a silly attempt, which surprisingly proved to be successful.

Louis hesitated for a few seconds before lifting the hem of his t-shirt and removing it completely. He then did the same with his sweatpants and boxers before placing himself right in front of Harry, hugging his legs against his chest. “You're grumpy, this morning.” Harry commented, playing with the foam around him.

“I have my reasons.” Louis mumbled, staring at the faintly pink-coloured water. “And what are these reasons?” Harry tried to maintain eye contact with him but Louis' eyes would escape everytime they'd meet with his. “I have some questions.”

Harry chuckled before relaxing his back muscles and letting them rest on the bathtub's edge. His whole posture was comfortable, in contrast with Louis' tense one. “Ask away. I have nothing to hide.” Harry spoke nonchalantly, making Louis question everything, again.

“When you were asleep, I saw a scar above your hip. What was it?”

“Not a pretty story. Do you really want to hear it?” Harry chuckled. “Yes.” Louis answered firmly. “I only have one kidney, the other was probably sold on the black market, when I was a kid. A normal thing in the south.” Harry may not have lied to Louis concerning that topic, but he sure as hell didn't tell the truth either. “Another thing. The story about your mum, was it true?”

“No, it was not.” Harry replied coldly and it angered Louis. “And you say that to my fucking face? What other lies have you told me, Harry? My dad didn't do that to you either, I know it.” Louis wasn't hugging his legs anymore, he was on his knees, leaning towards Harry, a threatening index pointed towards the younger boy. He was certain of that last point because of what Charlotte told him. Naturally, she asked him first if he knew about her father and Harry, that was when Louis felt another slap hit him straight in the face. Since he has seen Harry that same morning with nothing but a reddish mark on his cheekbone and the only time he was alone with their father was right before William left -Louis would know, because he was the one that accompanied his father to the fashion show-, it was natural of him to ask her if his face was bruised when she saw him.

“No, not at all.” was her answer.

“I've never said he did.” was Harry's answer. It added to Louis' frustration. He returned back to his place because Harry had a point. He never said William hit him, Louis assumed it. “Still, you're a liar.”

“I've never said I wasn't.” He had another point. Louis didn't want to talk more. It felt like Harry was a master of words, anything he said made Louis shut up. He'd be a far better lawyer than Louis himself.

Now, it was Harry's turn to stand on his knees and approach Louis. Louis got even more tense when Harry actually sat on his lap, as if was the most common thing to do. “Every lie I've told you is as white as a sheet. I distort my reality to make it more pleasant, less miserable. You can't blame me for that.” He whispered before kissing the base of Louis' neck and wrapping his legs around his waist.

“I don't know if I can believe you.”

“You can.” Harry's wet hands reached for Louis' cheeks before his mouth touched his. He closed his eyes, feeling nothing but pure emotion as the kiss deepened more and more. Louis closed his eyes as well, knowing he was making a terrible mistake. If his mother knew, she'd go completely mad. “I trust you. You're the only person I trust. I believe everything you say. Please, trust me back. Believe what I say.” Harry breathed softly, their mouths a few inches away from each other.

Louis couldn't believe all of the raw, exposed emotions were faked. He didn't want to remember what his mother told him but her words haunted him, just like Harry's name used to haunt her.

“I can't do this.”

Louis put his hand on Harry's chest, trying to push him away, as gently as possible. “You can. We can do this.” Harry resisted, making an attempt at wrapping his hands around Louis' neck to hold on tighter to him. “You gave me hope yesterday. Don't destroy everything.” Harry begged, feeling an unfamiliar ache in his chest. “Yesterday was an utter mistake.”

“No, it wasn't!” Harry spat, feeling tears form in his eyes. Louis hands went over Harry's to try and loosen their grip around him. “I dreamed of us, yesterday night. It was wonderful- We lived together. We were happy! We can do it, I know we can!” Harry rambled in fury, hoping he'd convince Louis to stay with him as he clung to him tighter. “We won't. We will not live together. We will never be happy together.”

With one strong motion, Louis pushed him away, making his back hit the tub quite violently. He forced himself not to care when Harry remained frozen in his corner, sobbing silently. Louis stood up and exited the tub. “I am not buying your act anymore.” He spoke harshly before leaving Harry alone with himself.

*

Harry was still under the shock when he came out of the bathroom, still wet and warm. A towel was the only thing covering his modesty as he made his way towards the wardrobe where his clothes were. Surprisingly, it was empty. He turned around. Louis sat next to the breakfast he ordered, Harry's bag right next to him.

“Sit. We have to exchange a few words before you fuck off.” Louis spoke in the same humiliatingly calm way William always used with Harry. Harry sat a few inches away from his packed bag. “I came to a few conclusions concerning how to deal with you. You will take this bag and go somewhere very away from us. I know all of your intentions. Don't you take me for a foul.” He then reached for his wallet, opened it, took a few bills from it before placing them right on top of the bag. “This is for the service you provided yesterday.” That sentence struck Harry like lightning. It was even more humiliating coming from Louis' mouth, to whom he just said that he trusted him and that he foresaw a future where they'd be happy together.

“I will be telling my father about all your lies, of course.”

“I remember telling you I will burn down your room if you tell him.” Harry finally spoke. Louis snickered, obviously not believing Harry's empty threat. “You don't scare me.”

“I'll burn the whole house down.” Harry added.

“Yeah, bore me more, please.”

“Your sister's visiting. I'll make sure she's nothing but ashes by the end of her visit.”

“Yeah, sure. Goodbye.”

Harry entered some sort of trance after that, just staring at Louis and asking himself what could've gone wrong. He started regretting threatening him, but that seemed like the only possible issue for him. He wondered what could have caused such a dramatic change.

“You should be scared.” He finally blurted out before standing up and grabbing his luggage. He also did not forget the money which he slipped inside the bag after counting it. Louis thought he wouldn't take them, it was just a test to keep, at least, a relatively good image of him, but all of his delusions reached their end in that moment. “Well, you don't really scare me anymore. You'll be nothing once my father knows.”

Harry didn't mind his words. He returned back to the bathroom where he chose the least flamboyant outfit he could find, packed the rest of his stuff then came back to the same place where Louis was having his breakfast. Harry had a few words in mind for him, far from threats or questions.

“I don't know who played with your mind-” His perfectly calm voice was interrupted by Louis' harsh one. “It was you. You played with my mind.”

“Okay then. I-I just wanted to say that-” “Harry, just leave.” Louis' voice was cold and indifferent. His eyes, which broke contact with Harry's once he talked made him look even more severe and tense.

Harry's mouth closed. He silently prayed that this was all a bad dream and that he'd wake up again, with Louis by his side. Then, he left, heartbroken and confused.

On his way out, he received a call he thought he'd better take. It was the lawyer's and as if that day wasn't bad enough, that man's words would worsen it. “My client refuses to cooperate. I have been trying everything in my power. He doesn't want to talk to me, or even meet me. I am terribly sorry, I am afraid I can't do anything concerning him.” The man sounded afraid.

Harry felt defeated. He let his back slide against the wall behind where he was standing and ended up sitting on top of the carpeted floor, realizing that everything he did, he did for nothing. “Okay. Drop the case.” A minute of silence followed, as if the lawyer couldn't believe how easy it has been. He stuttered for a moment, trying to find his words. “You can come and take your money back whenever you want, sir.”

Harry ended the call.

*

“Louis told me you left the hotel.” Harry heard once he finally decided to answer William's call. “I didn't like it there.” Harry mumbled, his fingers pulling at the strings of the train chair he was sitting on. “Did you take the plane?” Harry only sighed before giving him a negative answer. “No, the train.” His void eyes staring out of the window, he was actually asking himself why he even answered in the first place. He didn't want to see William anymore and he still doesn't, but something changed when Louis started unexplicably treating him badly. Louis' words were harsh, feeling like daggers stabbing him with each letter pronounced.

“I'll send Liam to drive you from the station.” Harry wanted to refuse. He wished he could. “Alright.” He spoke slowly, as if even his mouth was not ready to say that. “Love you.” William said, in a voice that was very far from sincere, Harry reciprocated it in the same way.

Numerous hours later, when Harry got out of the station, carrying his heavy bag, he saw Liam having a smoke by the jet black car which he was leaning on. He did not seem to have seen him because he did not hurry to open the door for him or carry his bag. Harry was too tired to act like an asshole and stand in front of the door, like he used to do sometimes, just so that Liam would move his arse and serve him. He opened the door for himself, got inside, hugging his back against his chest, a pair of dark designer shades hiding his tired eyes.

It took Liam a moment to process it. He then shook it off, stubbed out his cigarette before entering the car too. The ride was silent. When they arrived, Harry did not even flip his hair at Liam while getting out, which he always did. Liam concluded that something fishy was going on.

Harry felt like vomiting when he entered the house, that same house which he used to consider heaven on earth, not only a few months ago. Now, that place disgusted him, or was it just William's presence. Either way, he was starting to feel sick.

He sat in one of the living rooms after he saw one of the maids rushing upstairs to tell William about Harry's arrival. After that. Harry heard steps approaching him from behind, then a pair of hands being placed on top of his shoulders and a small peck on top of his head. “Hey, baby.” Harry cringed at the sound of his voice. “Hi.” William then hopped on top of the leather sofa, right next to where Harry was sitting. The latter already had his sunglasses off, which meant that he mindlessly left the bruises on his face perfectly visible, and that was the first thing William noticed.

“What- What happened to you?” William's hand went on Harry's chin, so as to approach his face and have a better look at the blue-ish marks. “Nothing.” He muttered. “Harry.” William's voice was now strict, clearly not appreciating how moody the teenager was acting. “I said: nothing. Drop it.” He spat before grabbing William's wrist and pushing it away from his face.

“Who hit you?” William asked, guessing that Harry must've received a pretty tough punch and also trying to ignore his attitude. “Why do you care? You hit me too.”

“That was one time and it was out of anger. It was just a small slap, not enough to bruise you, just enough to discipline you.” He wasn't even sorry. It made Harry feel like he was trapped. He was counting on William's potential remorse to make the best out of the situation, but since there was no sign of remorse, he quickly came up with something else. “It was Louis.” He blurted.

There was a moment of silence.

“L-Louis?” William repeated, as if unable to process it. “Yes.” The times where Harry found discomfort in lying were rare and this was one of those times. He felt extremely guilty about accusing Louis of something he clearly hasn't done but he couldn't come up with something better. “Why?” The old man was dumbfounded because he knew that Louis was not one to be aggressive. “I thought you two got along pretty well.”

“Just in front of you.” Harry avoided William's eyes at all costs. “Tell me what happened.” William slurred through gritted teeth, obviously getting angry at his son. Harry took his time. “It's just- It's silly. He just started saying that I am using you, that I don't really love you. He said that he was ready to lie to you and invent stories about me so that you'd dump me. And just, one thing led to another and he got violent.” Harry didn't want to give details he would probably not remember. He acted nervously which did nothing but make William fume who thought that what happened might have traumatized poor Harry who had already started weeping.

“I'll have a word with him when he returns.”

“No- Will, don't. He's probably right. I can be awful sometimes, too.” It was nothing but a strategy to make William believe that Harry was the incarnation of innocence in his made-up story. “No, he must know his limits. I'll make sure this never happens again.”

The bitter taste of the guilt he has been feeling disappeared gradually when Harry started to realize how much of an asshole Louis has actually been to him. He forgot in a hearbeat all the intimacy, the sweet kisses, the love-making. If it meant nothing for Louis, then why would it mean something for him? The only thing he could taste now was sweet revenge because nobody who hurts Harry ever goes unpunished. 

 


	11. Chapter 11.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte pays Harry back by being his saviour this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not my best chapter sorry

Two days passed before Louis returned again, and Harry made the best out of those two days. William insisted of having him over and even paid a nurse to take care of his bruises. Harry did not refuse the pampering. He'd stay all day in pyjamas, ordering people around for food, watching tv or sleeping. For those two days, he succeeded in forgetting about everything bad.

And when William seemed to have calmed a bit from what Louis supposedly inflicted to Harry, the latter came up with a more horrible story to dig Louis' grave deeper and deeper. He waited until the day Louis was supposed to arrive. That morning, he started sobbing without explanation at the breakfast table, shedding heavy tears on the fruit salad he has been trying to eat. He acted like the weeping was involuntary, which William obviously believed. The older man kept asking him about what was wrong with him. Harry couldn't talk over shaking limbs and a lumpy throat. He needed a glass of water to finally calm down.

Harry, after several minutes of perfect acting finally spoke out, accusing Louis of attempted rape and that the violence was a result of Harry's resistance. Since William never got any clear explanation about the reasons behind their fight, it made sense in his mind. His blood boiled over hearing Harry's words which he blindly swallowed, never even allowing Louis, his own blood, the benefit of the doubt.

Needless to say that William couldn't calm down after that. “How dare he?” “Fucking prick, I'll fucking show him.” “I knew his mother spoiled him too much, now he thinks he can do whatever he wants.” And it went on, his anger only fueled by Harry's attempts at asking him to forget about it. He was playing the angel and the victim. “He was a bit drunk, I-I think.” He added, only to receive a kiss on the forehead. “My sweet, sweet Harry. Don't try to find justifications for his act.” It was funny how William was saying that, since he forced himself on him a few days ago, too.

When Louis arrived, William was in his study, trying to think of other things apart from what Louis has done and Harry sat on his desk, looking through his papers, while thinking about what would happen after that. A maid informed them about Louis' arrival. William stood up, removed his glasses and sighed angrily. “Stay here, baby. I won't be long.”

“No! I-I want to be there, too. I have gathered enough courage to face him.” Actually, Harry was worried. He knew Louis wouldn't understand a single thing. He also was sure that Louis was ready to tell his father about everything, and that was something he couldn't allow to happen.

William didn't argue more, he needed all the energy he could find to make his son regret ever laying a finger on his beloved Harry. The latter wasn't sure if he wanted to see Louis again because he knew it would break his heart. However, as they made their way in the long hall to Louis' room, he convinced himself about the importance of putting his feelings aside and remain the cold, emotionless, hate and jealousy-filled Harry.

William did not knock on the door and stormed inside the neat bedroom where Louis was unpacking his bag. Then, everything became a blur for Harry. He heard William screaming words and profanities his mind could not process, as it only could focus on Louis' face whose expression when from surprised to angry quite quickly, clearly understanding what all the fuss was about.

He looked at Harry for a short moment, his eyes full of disgust expressing more hate than words could ever do. Harry wanted to cry. He never realized the consequences of what he did, but he was starting to and it did not feel pretty.

“You're choosing to believe this lying bastard over your son! Do you realize that he's manipulating you? You're his fucking puppet! He's pretending to be somebody he's not!” Louis didn't even know how in the world his father could believe that Louis tried to rape then brutalized Harry. What was even harder for him was to realize that his mother's words were true. Harry truly wanted to ruin their whole family and he achieved it.

“You get out of this house before I throw you out myself.”

“Look, let me just tell you about-” Louis so far, has been trying to keep his calm despite all the nonsensical shit his father spat out. “Add one more word and I'll fucking punch you.” William's face has turned into a hot reddish shade by then, and how he acted made it obvious that he was a trigger away from snapping and turning the scene violent. Harry reminded behind him and gently placed his hands on both of his biceps, trying to stop him from doing anything crazy. “You are fucking evil.” Louis finally spoke, directing his words to Harry who gave him a satisfied grin, which William could obviously not see, before taking putting back every piece of cloth on his bed inside his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and storming out.

In that moment, Harry knew it was over. Everything he lived with Louis, everything he felt towards him, needed to be buried deep inside him because there was no way Louis could look at his direction again without carrying inextinguishable hatred within him. But Harry did that to survive, and the cost was all his hope for a ray of happiness inside his miserable life.

*

Every day that passed without Harry being constantly with William made the latter so stressful, he couldn't focus on anything, not even studying for his final exams which were approaching dangerously. At any given moment, Louis could call or come home and talk to his dad, expose Harry and ruin everything for him. However, it did not happen. Harry was safe, had a shitload of money waiting for him inside a suitcase, under his bed. He often wondered if he had the courage to take that money and try to disappear somewhere else, somewhere new.

He received in the mail, a few days before, something from his sister. A few dollars and a small note on which was scribbled her phone number. He wanted to tear everything at first but finally decided against it and placed the whole thing inside the pocket of the jeans he was wearing.

Also, his father finally came back home after a very long absence following his wife's death and sat on the sofa for the whole time, seeming like he was meditating but Harry could guess that he was high of some mix of drugs and alcohol. It was not like he cared what that pig of a man injected in his bloodstream. Let him overdose and join her in hell, already, Harry constantly thought.

Sometimes Harry contemplated his relationship with his father and came to some odd recognition. He probably never held any conversation with that man in his life. He didn't know where he came from, whom his parents was, if he ever went to highschool, why was he in prison or even what kind of job he had. They never spoke to each other, never even been in each other's presence for more than ten minutes. It was like one of them was a ghost, probably Harry since his father spoke normally -more or less- with the rest of his siblings. It was probably because Harry was born while his father was in prison and was only freed when Harry was entering teenagehood, which was a bit awkward for the both of them. Sometimes, Harry even wondered if he was not his son but it wouldn't add up since they had some similar features: same nose shape, same hair texture, same eye color, etcetera.

William called Harry the day his father came back home, asking him to come over and telling him that he had a surprise for him, in a suggestive voice that made Harry hate himself. He put a plain black hoodie on and the same loose, ripped jeans he always sported around in the neighbourhood. He knew he will miss yet a whole day at school, but he had to, because he's been making up excuses to avoid William every time he called him this past week.

With a backpack on his bag and a hood over his head, covering his forehead and even a part of hie eyes, he made his way towards the exit door. “Um, Harry?” He heard as he was ready to turn the knob. His father's voice was always very calm and slow, much like Harry's. “Yeah.” He answered, not even turning around to face him. The sight of him on that same sofa his mother probably died in was repulsive to him.

“Where's Emily?”

“Don't know. She left with some guy and her kid.” He mumbled, feeling himself sweating. It just stressed him out to talk to his father. “And where are you going?” By that time, Harry's leg was nervously shaking. “School.”

“Good kid.”

Harry swallowed, hoping he wouldn't talk again, which actually happened. He quickly opened the door and rushed down the stairs as fast as he could. He made it to the safer regions without much trouble, where he entered a McDonald's restrooms, changed into something prettier and took the subway to get closer to William's house. There, he took a cab that drove him right in front of the large, elegant house.

It seemed as if William has been waiting for him, and that was not something that reassured him. When he entered the room, he dropped his bag, out of shock, after seeing a large collection of toys, whips, gags, rope, cuffs and other accessories he could not even put a name on, casually placed on the bed. William was wearing an elegant black suit, sitting on an imposing chair, that almost resembled a throne, as if he has been there, waiting for Harry to arrive.

“I've been doing some- um, shopping, lately.” He had a smug look on his face, and also a semi under his pants. Harry's heart dropped to his stomach. He knew William liked to watch him, he was aware of all the things he bought to spice it up but to see such a large exhibit of those toys was scary. If he counted them, he'd probably find more than a hundred and get more terrified than he already was. “I can see that.” Harry spoke, feeling uneasy.

“We'll be having a lot of fun.” Harry felt as if something changed in William's eyes, as if the sadistic sparkle in them grew bigger, erasing any tiny bit of affection that ever existed in them. “It looks dangerous.” Harry couldn't help but say, scratching his neck in discomfort. All that looked like tools of torture, not pleasure. “Well, you trust me, don't you?” The smirk on William's face felt fishy.

Harry couldn't even answer, he only nodded. The feeling of being trapped came back to him again and he felt suffocated. He even made a few steps back when William stood up. “Are you afraid?” He asked, as if offended, before letting out an amused chuckle. “No.” Harry lied to satisfy William.

“Now, undress and kneel in front of the bed.”

“Now?” Harry's expression began to turn into a panicked one. “Yes, now.” However, he did as he was told, his heart pumping loudly against his ribcage. “I am feeling nice, so, you may choose you gag and blindfold. Put them on.” Harry looked in front of him, went with a plain black blindfold that resembled more a sleeping mask and the gag with the smallest ball, since he wasn't really keen on having a sore jaw for days. Now that he couldn't see, his other sense became a bit more aware and the smallest sound made him shiver.

He heard William walk around the bed then sit on it. “You look so pretty.” He said as he chose the rope he should be using. He decided on the roughest one, since Harry went easy on himself with the gag. William ordered him to spread his arms before he attached his hands tightly to the extremities of the bedframe. It was tight around Harry's wrists and his muscles were already aching at how stretched they were.

“Now to the fun part.” William said. Harry's heart sunk lower. William remained quiet for a moment, Harry thought he might be busy deciding what toy to start with. Actually, he texted the butler, telling him that the staff working at house could leave for the rest of the day. Once he received an answer, he moved on to the real business.

He knew Harry was waiting for something to happen, so he sadistically made that wait longer than expected and casually sat on the bed, thinking while his eyes were on the beautiful boy he was about to break. More than ten minutes of nothing but pure silence but torture for Harry. He wished he could at least ask what was happening but the ball, even as small as it was made it impossible for him to form coherent words. His knees were starting to get sore from the material of the carpet and even his arm muscles were hurting him.

Right when Harry's frustration was about to reach its peak, the crack of a whip was heard, followed by a sudden heat on Harry's back then an unbearable stinging. He arched his back, his teeth biting hard on his gag. It was not really painful at first, but the pace quickly made it so. However, Harry resisted, knowing he'd only waste energy in protesting. The flesh on his back and buttocks felt like it was on fire, as the whip hit it brutally, leaving thin bloody lines on his pale back. And just when Harry felt like it was becoming too much, it stopped.

Harry could finally catch his breath. Slowly, William's hands made their way to face and moved the blindfold up, reveling teary eyes. “How was that?” Harry only nodded, because he's had worse. His nod was the green light for William to change to a bigger whip, one he has never used before that could probably temporarily scar Harry. He shut his eyes once again with the blindfold and begun.

The second part of the session was more of William letting out the wild beast inside him. The whip hurt and the intensity William used made it even worse. His fists clenched around the rope as he tried to scream all the pain out, not understanding how William found it pleasurable to torture him like that.

William stopped after less than five minutes, and those few moments fell like hell for Harry. He was sweaty, his saliva was dripping of his mouth, his back was bloody and all of his body shaking with ache. William now removed both the gag and the blindfold. Harry swallowed all the saliva he could before muttering: “Stop this.”

“We're just getting started.” William who was standing right above him with the menacing whip between his hands, had a smug smile on his face. “William-”

“It's sir, now.”

“I won't be calling you that.” Harry spat, trying as hard as he could to weaken the rope around his wrists, knowing it didn't really have much effect. William knelt beside him. “Oh, you will.” William grinned devilishly, his hand making its way to Harry's chin and forcing the younger boy to face him. As Harry stared at him longer, something started to feel wrong.

“Let's play a game, shall we? I'll ask questions, you'll answer.” William explained as he got on his feet again. “For every wrong answer, I'll hurt you.” Harry didn't react, all of his mind focused on the stinging pain on his back and how bad it will scar later. His eyes followed William as he chose another type of whip. Harry was no expert bu he knew that would be harsher than the others.

“William, I don't want this. My back hurts.” Harry spoke as coldly as he could, trying to knock some logic inside William's mind. The latter ignored the plea and begun his game. “Two days ago, I have met a very interesting person. Will you guess who it is?”

Even if Harry would have actually wanted to play, he could not answer with such little detail given. “I don't know.” He mumbled. “Wrong answer.” After that, Harry felt his spirit leaving his body for a split second when his back came in contact with the material of the whip. It was so painful it made him cry. “Stop it.” He shouted at the top of his lungs, but William turned a deaf ear to him.

“Guess who the person is.”

“I don't know. I don't fucking kn-” He let out a cry of pain mid-sentence. “Wrong answer.”

“Stop it, please, please, William.” Harry's hot tears did nothing but amuse his torturer. “That's not the right answer either.” Harry closed his eyes, ready to receive another whipping but was surprised not to feel any new unbearable sting. William sat on the edge of the bed, towering over Harry who looked like he was on his knees, worshiping him. “I will tell you a little, funny story.”

With his hair sticking to his sweaty face and his eyes still teary, Harry looked up to William, who almost looked like a grandpa telling his grandchildren some bedtime story. “Two days ago, I went golfing. I saw somebody I recognized in the club. So, out of politeness, I had to say hi. I did, I said hi and asked the person, it was man- So, I asked this man about his family, his work, and all that stuff. Then, I had to ask him about his son, out of curiousity. Do you know what he said to me? I don't have a son.”

Harry's tears stopped. He only gulped and looked down, getting seriously frightened. His heart sunk. “Did you guess who it is now?”Harry swallowed hard. “Did you guess now?” William repeated with a stricter tone. Harry remained silent. “Alright. I guess you did.”

Harry refused to look at him or open his mouth. He was trying to think of a way to get himself out of that sticky situation. If he did not, then he was sure things would get uglier. “I can explain.” Harry spoke for the first time since William's revelation. His words made the older man laugh, but it was not even an amused laugh, it was a mischievous, evil one. “Do you really think I want an explanation?”

Harry knew there was no point in trying to defend himself. “I will make you regret ever taking me for a fool, you little shit. You're definitely not getting out of this mess sane. You played with someone who's way bigger than you.” William spoke, growing impatient at how calm Harry seemed. He couldn't help but feel paranoid, as if the boy was hiding something else, since he has learned not to underestimate his intelligence once he discovered all the bullshit he has been feeding him over the past months. However, Harry had never been more helpless. He saw no light at the end of the tunnel and just hoped for everything to pass by quickly.

“Aren't you even going to beg me to spare you?” William asked, unsatisfied with Harry's reaction. “You won't spare me.” Harry replied looking at him briefly, his gaze cold and clouded. He was probably still feeling lightheaded because of all the pain his back endured. Shortly after that, he felt a yank on his hair, forcing him to look at William straight in the eye. “You know, even for a little wannabe punk like you, your attitude is too much.”

Harry had to stop himself from talking back to him and get into more trouble. “I think I'll leave you here for some time. Let you think about what you did and apprehend the consequences.” Harry rolled his eyes as William took a dramatic tone. “You don't take this seriously, do you?” No answer from Harry who still had that arrogant expression on his face, as if he was immune to all the pain and the threats. “Do you know how much money I owe you, Harry? How much money I want back? Nearly a million dollars, that's how much I've spent on you during seven months, you money-thirsty little whore. How will you pay that back? Tell me.”

“It wasn't a loan. I don't have to pay it back.”

A slap across his cheeks made his shield crack a little. “Oh you will. You will fucking pay all of that money back. If we can't figure something out, your cheap life will do.” With that, William got up, left Harry in the same painful position, with the gag on, since he couldn't risk for somebody to come and hear him. He also did not forget to lock the door. One thing Harry noticed, a few minutes after he was left alone was that he changed the AC's temperature in the room, probably choosing the lowest one. It wasn't long before his chest started aching too as he coughed his lungs out because of the cold, and his naked body became all shivery and trembling, killing slowly every ounce of determination he had to get himself out of that mess.

*

After bidding Charlotte farewell, Louis returned to the apartment he just begun renting. It was a beautiful one bedroom flat, not very far from the campus which he couldn't stand anymore after only spending half a week there. When Charlotte came from LA to spend time with her father, she was surprised to hear that Louis got his own place. She decided to stay with him for a bit before meeting up with her dad. She'd beg him to tell her what was the reason behind their fight but he'd always change the topic or ignore her questions.

Now that he was finally alone, sitting in his desk, his laptop in front of him as he wrote an article about one specific unsolved mystery case for his blog, he couldn't help but think of Harry. His thoughts weren't the angry, disgusted ones he's been having for the past days. These ones were different. For a moment, he forgot about Harry's false accusations, about his games and lies, everything bad he has done to him. The case was Harry's brother's case which Louis has been obsessing over, thinking there was more to it than said.

Harry's brother claimed that his sole motive was proving himself to a gang he's been dying to join. Louis did not want to believe that. A lot of people did not actually. Psychologists claimed that he had anger issues, that the act was spontaneous and unplanned. Louis did not believe that either. He had trouble explaining why the man refused to be put on trial again. Sometimes, Louis even wondered if he was some kind of perturbed artist trying to make some sort of weird statement about society. That would be unlikely, but still.

Louis' theory included Harry. That crime was in some way related to Harry, he did not have any proofs but his gut told him so. So when he tried to make some hypothsis, all he could focus on was Harry. He always ended up forgetting about the case, lost in his thoughts and daydreams. He wished to die and be reborn in a world where Harry's personality matched his ethereal angelic face. In that world, Louis would be madly in love with him. He even tried to convince himself that he'd love Harry even if they were of different classes. It was all a matter of morals and ethics, not money.

He didn't know how much time he spent daydreaming but he was brutally thrown back to reality by the buzzer of his phone. He sighed, not really intending on answering. He finally picked it up. “Already missing me?”

'Louis?” Her voice alone made all of his senses go alert. It seemed like her jaw was shaking so much that she couldn't talk. “Charly, what's wrong?” His heart started racing. “It's Harry, he-” She sobbed, leaving enough time for Louis to remember Harry's threats about his sister. He gulped, afraid to even hear the rest. To prepare himself to what was coming, he closed his eyes and took a large breath.

“I think he's dying.”

Louis' eyes opened in shock, as he has never even expected that. He thought he'd hear about him burning down the whole house or doing some vile, childish thing to scare Charlotte but not that. “Please come over. Quick.” She was panicking while Louis was speechless. The fear and worry he felt in that moment confirmed that Louis was not ready to loose Harry, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself about how easy it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also: the last part is two days apart from the middle one AND  
> the story is ending soon :'(


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry is fucked.

When Charlotte arrived in front of her father's house, in the car she has rented for the week, she was surprised to meet all of the staff leaving. She parked quickly in the front yard and reached for Liam, which was a familiar face for her. She was surprised to hear that her father had something urgent coming up and that he was forced to leave the country for a few days.

At first, she felt disappointed because she thought he'd be expecting her. However, she quickly got over it since it wouldn't be the first time her dad would do something of that sort. “Could you tell them not to close the door?” Since she was tired, she thought she'd take a nap inside, a nice hot bath, take some of her brother's stuff, which he asked her to do before heading back to his place.

Before entering the large house, she checked her phone only to find a message from her father, asking her to stay at Louis' because he wouldn't be present. She only rolled her eyes and closed the door after her. She passed by the kitchen where she raided the fridge for some snacks. She then went upstairs and the first door she tried to open was her father's room's. She wouldn't miss the opportunity of using his huge tub and Jacuzzi for anything in the world, especially now that he was absent. She didn't give up once she found out that it was locked and rushed instead to her father's study where she knew he kept spare keys.

She looked around for a few minutes before finally remembering their exact same place. She also didn't forget to make a stop at her own, old room, to take some towels and clothes with her, not really certain about whether they would still fit or not. After trying a bunch of the keys she brought with her, she finally could open the door to the large, royal-looking bedroom. The décor had changed but it still felt a bit intimidating and extravagant. The room also felt cold, meaning her father probably forgot about the AC before leaving. She made sure to shut it off because it was honestly freezing.

Since she was not really interested in the bedroom itself, she immediately directed her steps towards the mahogany door at her left. She turned the knob. “Come on!” She whispered to herself after realizing that it was locked, too. She tried with the rest of the keys while asking herself why in the hell would her father even lock his bedroom and his bathroom, on top of that.

Her question was answered when the first thing she saw as she opened the door was a thin trail of dried blood on the tiled floor. At first, she didn't think much of it but she soon realized that it was more serious than she imagined once she walked towards the large tub.

*

Louis didn't know how to feel. He was confused, hazed and anxious. He didn't understand what could've happened but he knew he had to get there as soon as possible. He asked Charlotte to call for an ambulance, knowing she was probably too shocked to think about doing it.

He hated himself for worrying. His heart was racing and it was so loud he could hear it through his ears, his palms were shaky and sweaty and even his breathing was affected, since he has been feeling like suffocating all the way from his flat to his father's house. He didn't bother parking properly and rushed inside, with all of his senses still swimming in a pool of puzzlement and apprehension.

“Charlotte?” He shouted. “Dad's room!” She answered, and just from the sound of her voice, Louis knew she was terrified. He ran upstairs and stopped to prepare himself for whatever shock waiting for him inside, taking a long, steady breath that did not help release his stress.

He entered slowly to an empty bedroom with a wide open bathroom door. He rushed his pace a little and gulped when he finally got to see what all of this was about. His sister was kneeling right next to the tub, towels and clothes scattered around her, as she spread her arms forward, holding on to something, or someone inside the tub.

“Charlotte, go wait for me outside.” He asked her with the calmest voice he could get out of his throat in a situation like this. She didn't exactly resist and was probably glad she could rest for a moment. Louis closed his eyes for a minute, still not feeling ready before taking the plunge and getting into the same position Charlotte was in. What he saw was not pretty.

He saw a completely bare, blood-covered, probably halfway between life and death, unconscious Harry, just laying in the bath, in a fetal position, as if scared or trying to warm himself. The wounds on his pale bruised skin looked quite fresh. What looked really bad was the flesh on his back, it was all slashed to the point where it exposed some of the bright pink muscles. Louis felt like he would throw up since even the smell did nothing but worsen everything.

Louis swallowed his saliva in a vain attempt to gain an ounce of courage. He then gently placed his hand on Harry's shoulder which was the least harmed part he could distinguish in all that bleeding mess. The first thing he noticed was that his skin was freezing cold. He could pass for dead, Louis worried for a minute before noticing that his chest was slowly rising up and down, sign that he was still very well alive.

He didn't know whether he should try waking him or lift him and get him somewhere safe and he didn't even have the time to think about it before he heard an ambulance's siren outside. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He cursed, realizing that calling for help was not exactly the brightest idea. He ran outside, to his sister who was probably still in shock and hasn't heard the paramedics arriving yet. He quickly knelt beside her, still attempting to think rationally and keep his calm.

“Look, Charly, I need you to go downstairs and tell the doctors downstairs it was all just a mistake, or a prank- or whatever. Just- They can't know about Harry.” The puzzled look on her face made him react quickly to stop her from asking further questions. “I'll explain everything later. Look, for now, go and bullshit them. Please.”

She gulped and stood up, ready to do what her brother asked her, without clearly understanding his motives. Louis didn't want to waste more time and returned back to the bathroom where he made a few attempts to wake Harry up before giving up and deciding to lift him instead. The boy was heavier than Louis ever imagined, especially since he was unconscious. His head, which was previously buried between his arms and chest and hidden by his hair, which Louis noticed to have become of irregular length at some places, was finally revealed and it was not as badly damaged as some other parts of his body. He only had a small purple bruise near his right temple. However, what worried Louis the most was how dry and coulourless his mouth appeared to be, from either cold or dehydration, or both.

Louis tried not to think about what made him reach that horrific state. He didn't want to give it any single thought, too afraid of the conclusions he could come up with, conclusions that will scar his mind forever, probably. For now, he wanted to stay focused on saving the boy's life as well as he could, not because he wanted to or had any kind of connection with him, but out of humanitarianism and sympathy, he tried to convince himself, even when knowing that it was far from the truth.

He laid him on the bed, not caring about leaving spots or dirtying the expensive sheets. He looked around him quickly, opened some drawers to find a soft blanket, which he wrapped him in to warm him up a bit. He couldn't help but feel awkward while doing so, especially as he remembered that Charlotte was now the third person in his family to see Harry naked.

He really needed to stop thoughts like that to flood his mind.

Harry was unconscious, sure, but his body still reacted slightly, his muscles tensing when moved and his mouth opening a bit, as if to talk, then close back a few seconds later. Louis had the right reflex to grab a glass from the bathroom anf fill it with water for him to hydrate his body. He sat on the bed, placed Harry's nape on his knee to lift his head and approached the water from his lips. The boy opened his eyes for the smallest moment, giving Louis a glimpse of his sad yet dreamy emerald green irises before falling back into what seemed like a deep sleep.

When Charlotte came back, she looked a bit more composed, as if she had taken care of everything, without complications. She had brought a large bowl and some towels with her from downstairs. “Warm water.” She mumbled, perhaps too afraid to speak more. “Yeah. Give that to me and- go look for some clothes in my room.” She nodded before getting out, her eyes never leaving Harry, as if that sight of him would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Louis called the only person he thought could help him in a situation like that. “Niall, I need you to do something for me. I've got a friend here. Hum-” Louis talked through the speaker of his phone, as he rubbed warm wet towels around Harry's chest and face, discovering new wounds and bruises. “He is kind of- badly wounded. And very cold, pale and probably dehydrated. He's unconscious now-”

“Didn't you call 911?” Niall asked in confusion. “I can't. I need you to come and see him. I'll explain later. Please, I really need this favour now.” Niall didn't need much begging, knowing that Louis never asked for any services, he knew this must've been pretty bad to make him do it. “Where are you?”

“I'll be in my flat in ten. See you there?”

“Yeah, buddy.”

“Thanks.” Louis sighed in relief, just as his sister entered with some clothes with her. Despite it being mid-summer, she chose some warm materials knowing that the boy's temperature was probably below normal. “I'll dress him and get him downstairs. Look around to see if he had something with him. A bag- He usually has a black Eastpak with him. Look if you can find it. I'll wait for you in the car.”

*

“I'd be better to get him into a hospital, Louis.” Niall stated after spending only a few minutes inside the room where Harry was. “I can't. He can't go into a hospital. Too much shit will happen.” Niall only closed his eyes and sighed. He looked over at Louis' younger sister who was sitting silently in front of the tv, not doing anything in particular but overthink everything. She didn't dare ask her brother any questions. Niall then grabbed Louis by the arm and made him enter his own room.

“Just tell me what happened to this guy.” He tried to whisper so as not to wake Harry up or have Charlotte hear them. “Long complicated story.” Louis spoke, as he tried to perfect the lie he has been thinking about. “He got in trouble with the wrong people, a drug lord or some shit like that. They owe him money and he didn't pay.”

“So they whipped him? What the fuck is wrong with these people?” Niall couldn't help but raise the tone of his voice, as he has rarely seen somebody as beaten up and damaged as Harry -probably since he lived in a quiet neighbourhood, too-. “W-whipped?” Louis was too afraid to even pronounce the word. “Yeah, I guess it's whip that did that to his back. It was pretty bad. I bandaged it and cleaned it but it'll scar badly.”

Louis bit his lips, looking quietly at Harry who now looked like he was peacefully sleeping. His face was finally its usual colour and didn't look as pale as before, now that he was warm and well-hydrated. “He needs a few x-rays. He probably has a few broken ribs. Not as bad as it sounds, they're easy to heal, but still.”

Louis only nodded. “I've given him some morphine. He'll sleep for the night.” Louis nodded, finally feeling a bit more reassured. “I'll give you some pain killers. Give him a nice, light meal for when he wakes up. And something sweet too.” Louis nodded again.

Niall was about to exit the room when he stopped halfway. “His face, it feels familiar. Does he go to uni?” Niall asked. Louis, who was still standing with his back on the door, shook his head. “No- He's still in high school.” Since Louis didn't want Niall to recall seeing him in the video, he came up with something more convincing. “He's a patient of your father's, if I recall well.”

Niall frowned before his expression lost all of its confusion. “Oh, yes! This dude is weird as fuck. I remember now. The guy with the missing kidney. Weird. As. Fuck. He didn't even know, dad told me. He's been living his whole life with one freaking kidney and he only knew like- was it like five months ago? Or maybe three, I don't really remember.” Louis felt a heavy weight on his chest as he heard Niall's words, guessing that his mother's theories were not only false but made Harry look like an evil minx that wished for their chaos and destruction.

“Weird.” Louis only managed to whisper. “Anyway, I gotta run. Got some stuff to work on for my thesis. If you need something, give me a call. Alright?” Louis thanked him and walked him to the door. When Niall was finally out, Louis returned back to the living room only to find an empty once. He directly entered the bedroom, where Harry was and saw his sister beside the boy, just staring at him in confusion.

“He'll be fine.” Louis knew she had questions. He knew she'd ask sooner or later. He wasn't ready to answer her. “Dad did this to him.” It was definitely not a question, more like a statement. “We don't know.” Louis knew that all the finger pointed to his father but he still did not want to accuse him of anything. He was innocent until proven guilty.

“We know. It's him. It's fucking obvious. Dad's a monster.” Her head turned to Louis' direction, tears filling her baby blue eyes. “Charlotte, how about you go take a nap or a shower or something to relax, you're not in the right mind at the moment.”

“Oh I am. I fit's not true then why did you tell me to lie to the paramedics? 'Cause dad will get into trouble and police will get involved! Do you think I am stupid? Why are you covering up for him? He deserves it! Look at how bad he hurt him? Look!”

“Charlotte, that's enough.” Louis gritted through his teeth, getting a bit tired of her social justice warrior act. “No, it's not! Why don't you take him to the hospital then? You're putting him in danger! Your friend isn't even a real doctor yet!” By then, she was already shouting. It was understandable, living in an environment where everybody preached about social equality and justice, back at home, she couldn't see such injustice and just shut her eyes and let it pass. “Charlotte-”

“Don't 'Charlotte' me! You're as disgusting as dad for doing this. You're making his life irrelevant by-”

“Well, guess what! His life actually is irrelevant. He is irrelevant. His life or death will not affect anything nor anyone in any shape or form. Nobody in the fucking world cares about what happens to this guy. I am doing him a favour, here.” Louis spat out of anger, since his younger sister was seriously starting to piss him off. He immediately regretted saying something like that as he saw the confused and disappointed look in his sister's eyes. More than that, he regretted it because he said something he shouldn't, something he knew would hurt Harry so much if he ever heard it.

A moment of silence followed.

“I'll just look for a hotel and go back to London tomorrow.”

“Charlotte.”

“You can talk to me when you stop being a stuck-up snob.” With that, she got up and left the room, making him want to slam his head on the concrete for his stupidity. Not only five minutes after that, he heard the door slam violently and saw her, through the window, with two of her suitcases, trying to catch a taxi.

Feeling defeated, he took her previous place and sat on a chair, right by Harry's bedside. He stared at him for a moment, thinking about what he could have done to deserve such a gruesome beating. William even traveled and left him there, as if he wanted for him to die, which was just terrifying for Louis, from every perspective. Having his father murder somebody and having Harry die.

He wondered how much pain he has been through, if he felt like he's die, how scared he probably was. He imagined him crying and begging and it broke his heart. He realized that while some of his previous words about Harry's life being irrelevant were somewhat true, it was definitely not irrelevant for Louis. It was a scary thought which he tried to wipe out of his memory without much success.

*

Louis woke up to realize that he has been sleeping for quite some time. It took him a minute to realize what happened through the day, that it was already nighttime and that Harry was not in the bed. “Harry?” Louis kept in mind that Harry was unpredictable and that he might as well have left the flat without even saying a word or leaving a note. “Harry?” He called for a second time, receiving no answer. That was when he decided to get up and look for him, still clinging into some hope.

When he saw that the bathroom lights were on, his toes curled, as if he was happy. Well, he kind of was. It was a weird feeling of both relief and apprehension.

He knocked twice on the door and called his name more than once without receiving any answer. That was when he finally decided to open the door, hoping he didn't lock it. It was open. He timidly made his way in, as soon as he spotted Harry standing in front of the mirror, scissors in hands, trying to even his hair. It looked shorter than usual but suited him, making him look younger than ever.

Harry noticed Louis but did nothing about it, acting as if he wasn't there. “You seem to be doing okay.” Louis did not know what to expect. “Better than I've ever been.” Harry answered in a cold, throaty voice. Louis knew he was being sarcastic. “You hungry?”

“No.” Louis knew he deserved this cold barrier that Harry decided to build between them but at the same time, felt like it was ungrateful coming from him. “You know, you could at least thank me for what I've did for you.” Harry stopped chopping his hair. He gave Louis, from the mirror, a death stare. “One more of your bullshit and I'll stab you to death with these.” He spoke coldly and clearly, as he pointed the pair of scissors. Louis' blood ran cold. He froze in place, knowing not to take his threats lightly.

“Okay.” Louis replied as he slowly made his way out of the bathroom. He only started to breathe properly once he was in the living room, asking himself why in the hell did he enter such a mess. He didn't have to wait long before Harry reappeared, coughing his lungs out, with his backpack on his back, ready to get out. Louis knew it was no use trying to stop him from going away. He'd only get some gruesome threat.

“I need ten dollars.” Harry spoke seriously as he stood right in front of Louis, the sharp scissors which he clearly was intending to use as a tool of intimidation, still between his hands. In another situation, Louis would've told him to fuck off but in that moment, he grabbed his wallet and gave him the ten dollars bill. Harry snatched it from his hands, buried it inside his pockets, made his way towards the open kitchen where he grabbed an apple before finally exiting the flat. He slammed the door after him.

Louis used every word in his dictionary to curse the fuck out of him. “Ungrateful shit.” He shouted at nobody in particular as he cleaned the hair scattered all around the sink where he chose to cut his hair. “Fucking cunt.” Louis never used such words but he was on edge. That boy was a fucking weirdo sociopath, that was for sure. He thought he'd be all traumatized, like a stray puppy, only looking for warmth, love and comfort, but no. He had to act like a fucking prick.

Before Louis went to bed, he changed the sheets, not wanting to smell that asshole's scent as he slept. He drifted to sleep cursing him and woke up doing the same. “Fuck him. Fuck him.” Louis felt like a teenager that has been stood up by their crush. Hating them but never getting over them.

He tried to calm down by watching some series on Netflix but was soon interrupted by a knock on his door. “The hell is it?” He mumbled at himself. When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was a pair of black, worn out converse shoes, followed by loose, bleached, torn jeans, a plain black hoodie, and then a face that made him want to punch a wall.

Louis was about to say something rude when Harry spoke. He has lost the arrogant, angry look on his face and was now looking lost. “Can I stay at yours for some time?”

How dare he? Was the first thing Louis wanted to say but the tone of Harry's voice, his obvious embarrassment over such a request and remembering what the boy has recently been through, Louis stepped back and let him in. “If I had somewhere to go I wouldn't come here.” Harry spoke as he stepped in, making Louis wonder if it was intended to be rude or polite. “I know.” Louis mumbled as he closed the door after him, knowing that he has just been given a second chance.

*

Harry couldn't walk nor breathe properly but he had to get out of Louis' house, just go away as far as possible from him and his whole family. After the monstrosities he has been through, he swore to himself never to mix with any person not belonging to the same background as his. He knew he was giving them what they wanted but it was all he could do. He had leaned his lesson. He just wanted to pack a bag, take the money he saved and go somewhere new, where nobody knew him. Screw highschool, he already missed the finals so he surely has failed the year, which killed all of his motivation. He'd just get a job and try to live as comfortably as he could.

That was all he was aching for. Nothing more.

As he tried to walk from the underground station towards his house, he felt like collapsing. He was so hungry, thirsty and tired that he started to wonder how the hell he woke up. He didn't ask himself more questions, didn't want to know how he ended up inside Louis' place or what could have happened to him if Louis wasn't there. Nope. He won't think about that.

He patted his bag while he breathlessly took the stairs leading to the fourth floor of the building where his family's flat was, looking for keys. When he finally found them, he was in front of the door, struggling to find the keyhole because of the poor light. After numerous attempts, the key would still not fit inside it. He started wondering whether he entered the wrong building since it did not make any sense for the door not to open.

“Wha're you doin' 'ere?” He suddenly heard from behing him after he got so frustrated with the key that blood started boiling inside his veins. He turned around to see a woman, perhaps in her late twenties, standing in a defensive posture, as a child hid behind her. She had keys in her hands as well. “I live here.” Harry answered with a confused tone, not exactly realizing what was happening and why the woman looked so scared. “You're trying to break in.” She shouted at his face before shutting her mouth, thinking that her words might get her into trouble. “Look- I just moved in yesterday. I really- I've go' nothin'to give you. I've go' a kid to feed.”

“I live here.” Harry panicked, not understanding where this woman came from and why she was telling him that nonsense. “Well, I just rented the place yesterday.” She tried to explain, her voice low and calm, still afraid of Harry's angrier tone. “The landlord told me- the family was evicted, cause they didn't pay.”

Harry's jaw hung. He wanted to cry as the feeling of being abandoned crept inside him slowly. It wasn't fair. Nothing has ever been fair for him but this was much worse. He has lost everything in the span of a couple of days and that was way too much for him to handle. “I- I need to-” Suddenly, talking seemed too hard for him. He wanted to ask her about his own wardrobe, where all of his pricey clothes and money were but words seemed to escape his throat.

“Is there any furniture left?” He finally asked, tears in his eyes, hoping for an answer that would return the situation to his own benefit. But her response was what he expected and not what he has been hoping for. “No- The man who lived here sold everythin' before leavin'. The place is empty.” She was still skeptical but she was clearly pitying the young man in front of her who seemed completely lost. “There was a closet- out of wood- There's something important in there- I need it-”

“I'm sorry.” She mumbled, as she caressed the curly hair of the kid behind her, as if reassuring him. “There's really nothing in there. You can check.” She opened the door for him, he entered and as she said, it was empty. No more rotting sofa, no more beds, no more rusty tables and most of all, no more of his closet. It was gone, and gone with it were all his dreams and hopes.

He was in a state of utter shock after that. He walked and walked, lounging the empty, dirty streets leading out of that pit of hell that used to be his home. When he made it to the safer region of the neighbourhood where there were some actual traces of human activity, he entered some fast-food, ordered whatever the money he had left could pay for and sat in a corner, wondering about how the hell he could survive.

He has lost his appetite but he knew he had to eat since, well, William made sure to starve him for most of the last couple of days, only allowing him to eat in humiliating ways he'd rather forget. As he ate slowly what he had in front of him, his mind drifted towards his sister. He hoped he'd still have her phone number on him as he inspected both his bag and his jeans. He felt as optimistic as one could in that sort of situation.

He called. It rang twice before she answered. “Hello?” The sound of her voice made Harry feel weird inside. It was like he realized that some part of him missed her. He was certain that if she was still with them, none of this bullshit would have happened. “Emily. It's Harry.”

An awkward silence followed. “Yeah, Harry, how are you?” The tone of her voice killed again every hope he had for asking her to take him in for a short time. He didn't answer her question and went straight to the topic, not even bothering to ask her about her baby or her boyfriend. “I don't know where dad is and he left the apartment cause they kicked us out. I don't have anywhere to go now.”

“Oh.”

“Look, if I can just stay at yours for one or two weeks-”

“I'm sorry, Harry, I can't.

“Why not? I promise I won't-”

“Zayn says you'd be too much trouble. I've already talked to him about inviting you over.”

“Fuck what Zayn says!”

“Sorry.” She sounded like she was crying. “I wish things were different.” He knew she was about to put an end to his call. “Look! At least give me dad's number!” The only answer he received were continuous beeps, meaning that she had already hung up. He tried to call her once more but she wouldn't answer.

In that moment, Harry knew he was fucked. He started to question what type of wrong he could have done to deserve such punishments in life. Sure, he had done some bad but no more than anybody else. And must of the bad he has done was just a consequence of another unfair happening in his life. It felt like a never ending loop.

It was already very late in the night when he finished his sandwich. He got up and continued his walking, his head high but his spirit at the lowest it has ever been. He cried his heart out, not caring anymore to be seen or recognized. In the end, he was still just a kid and a kid didn't deserve to be on his own in such a situation. He didn't even know whom to talk to, if social services could still help him, if there was anything that could improve his situation just a tiny bit.

He walked until his feet hurt. He sat on a bench, ignoring the shattering pain in his bottom following his hellish stay at William's home and fought against sleep as he waited for the sun to raise. He was already in the safe, beautiful neighbourhoods but he still felt insecure sleeping outside the warmth of a bed.

He hoped nobody would notice him, especially not some security guard or a police officer. Homeless, broke people were obviously not welcome in that part of the city. As he sat, watching small rays of sun light up the sky slowly, he started thinking of his last resorts. He thought of Louis, first, then Alexander. Since the mere thought of talking to the latter made him want to vomit his dinner, he knew he had to step on his pride, break every promise he made himself not only a few hours ago, forget every lesson he thought he had learned and go ask Louis for a temporary shelter. He didn't really have much hope, knowing Louis would probably ask him to fuck off because of his attitude with him, but he would at least have tried before starting to call the street his home, which he was not ready for.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait. also im traveling so no more chapters til september, sorry guys!!


	13. Chapter thirteen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry is scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any typos I LITERALLY WROTE THIS IN less than half day lol

Louis didn't dare to ask questions. He knew Harry had something going on because he clearly seemed like he had forced himself to knock on Louis' door. The younger boy had been sitting in the middle of Louis' living room since he arrived, doing nothing but staring at the void, his hoodie covering his now short hair and the upper aprt of his face, including his eyes. He didn't talk, didn't even budge so Louis just assumed that he needed some space after what happened, a quiet place where he could think, probably away from his own family that could have asked some questions Harry didn't want to answer.

Harry's relationship with his family always baffled Louis. Even before his mother presumably died, Louis always noticed how Harry had way too much freedom for a teenager. At least, in comparison to Louis in his teenage years. How Harry could sleep over at William's and stay there for days, and the way his family didn't exactly seem to mind that sometimes bugged Louis. Sure, the guy also sold weed at fifteen or sixteen, but that didn't seem to chock Louis more than his unconditional freedom. He even found himself wondering if Harry's family knew about him dating older men for money, if they were actually the ones that encouraged him to do so, since it was less dangerous than drug dealing and also more rewarding. He knew it was highly unlikely but he's heard of some stories like that, people without morals did exist, unfortunately.

Louis tried to act like Harry was not there and tried to act as he would normally do. He sat on his computer, continued researching some cases he was interested in, sitting in the comfort of his own bed, and getting up from time to time to check on Harry whom he'd find still sitting on the couch, as if frozen. He even got nervous, fearing an outburst when he was about to ask him if he wanted anything for lunch.

“You're hungry?” Louis asked, peeping through his half opened door. Harry turned around, and the surprised expression on his face clearly showed that he had forgotten about Louis' presence. “Uh-” He acted startled, as if his tongue refused to cooperate with his brain. “Um-” He muttered again, closing his eyes, as his face got a bit red, probably out of frustration, or maybe timidity, which Louis thought to be highly unlikely, since Harry was anything but shy. “I'll order for two.” Louis interrupted his fumbled speech, feeling more sorry than he already was to see a boy so confident and energetic be reduced to such a state. As soon as Louis said that, Harry returned to his almost lethargic state.

When food came, Louis asked Harry to come to the kitchen where he had disposed the meals on top of a marble counter. It consisted of a Caesar salad, smoked salmon bagels and fruit parfaits as a dessert. He knew Harry needed something healthy to recover properly, stuff that he probably couldn't have had if he stayed home. He also expected Harry to eat all of that in the blink of an eye, since he has probably been hungry, but the way he ate was painfully slow. Louis knew the younger boy was in some kind of pain since he would drop his sandwich or whatever he had in hand, from time to time, grip the end of the counter, close his eyes and just wait for whatever was making him suffer to ease.

Louis didn't want to ask him about it because it will bring that same sensitive topic they both clearly avoided. It wasn't until Harry stopped eating and started crying and shaking uncontrollably that Louis realized how painful all of his wounds must be. He hugged his own chest and panted, gasping for air as his silent sobs clearly made it harder for him to breath. “Where does it hurt?” Louis shyly asked when Harry's pain started to go away. “My chest. It hurts to breathe.” He uttered breathlessly. “It's- It's all purple- and it hurts.”

Louis felt like shit. A lot of his ribs were probably broken, like Niall said, but he still refused to get an actual doctor to check Harry, and that was the result. He knew for a fact that broken ribs heal on their own but didn't expect the injuries to hurt so badly. “I'll get you some painkillers.”

Harry swallowed the pills Louis got him like his life depended on them. The pain got a little bit less intense but Harry's eating was still slow and silent. By the time Louis finished everything, Harry was still at his third bite out of the bagel, with an untouched salad. As he chewed, avoiding any eye contact with Louis, Harry's hoodie started to get hot around his head and he removed it, letting Louis rediscover him for a second time with his short, uneven haircut. Louis couldn't help but stare. He looked so boyish, so young, so pretty, so innocent that it made Louis' heart melt. If that was how he looked when he was sixteen, Louis understood how Alexander got so hooked on him. With longer hair, Harry looked desirable, fatal, even unreal, now he looked like a cute boy you'd want to cuddle and kiss and just love.

“I think my ribs are cracked or something.” Harry spoke, finally breaking the silence and sending Louis back to earth from his daydreams. “The doctor said it wasn't anything grave. Everything will heal.”

“What doctor?” Harry asked, turning around and facing Louis, his cheeks still red and his eyelashes wet and sticky. “The one that checked on you. You were not conscious then.” Louis explained, with a tone of assurance, now that Harry didn't look as intimidating as before. “I was conscious. For some time. You called your friend. He's not a doctor.”

Louis suddenly lost his words and not because Harry knew about Niall coming but because Harry might have heard the not so pretty things he has said about him. That would be awful, truly. “He's a doctor in training. Makes him a doctor.” Harry did not seem to like Louis' way of reasoning. “He's not a doctor.” He repeated, stubborn. Louis let out an exasperated sigh. “And your point is?”

“You know what my point is.” Harry mumbled before breaking eye contact and returning to his previous position. “No. No, I don't. I would like to know what's going on inside your head.” Louis was confused and angry, because he didn't expect Harry to be a pain in the ass, again. “You're protecting him.” That's when everything cleared up in Louis' mind. He finally figured out Harry's thoughts and intentions.

“You seem to forget that I am protecting you too.”

“No. You just want to shut me up. You're still protecting him.” There was a moment of silence before Louis got up angrily. He didn't expect Harry to praise him for actually saving his life, not at all, but he did think he'd show at least a tiny bit of gratefulness or just to shut his mouth and not say stupid things like he did. Harry's eyes followed him hesitantly. “You do realize that I have chosen to take you in and shelter you, not even knowing why I am doing it, that I have risked my relationship- wait, you already destroyed my relationship with my father, so I am pouring salt on everything by helping you out, and what do I get for that? You're a fucking ungrateful little twat.” Harry's eyes looked down. He remained silent. “Look at me. You're a liar, you're a manipulator, don't play the victim now. I know you enough not to fall into your trap, again. You've received a good beating, and to be honest, you kind of deserved it. Don't come and cry on my shoulder when the things you do are way worse and fucked up.”

Louis knew he was being harsh, but honestly, Harry needed it, not the beating and the abuse, just the reality check. The younger boy looked all shaken up after hearing Louis' words as the latter prayed for him not to cry. He did not want to see his tears again.

“So you're kicking me out?” Harry tried to act as if nothing Louis said had affected him. Or maybe it didn't truly affect him. The only thing that seemed to worry him at the moment was sleeping under a roof and that was all. “I don't know. If you had some dignity, you would've already left.”

Harry smiled sadly. “Well, I don't seem to have much dignity, do I?” He muttered, in a way that could've been humorous if his voice didn't sound so crushed and melancholic. “Don't say that about yourself.” Louis wished he could say but he just stood motionless for a few seconds before choosing another way of talking to Harry, trying not to have his emotions get in the way of a logical reasoning. “I am not kicking you out, I am just wondering why you're here and for how long you'll be here.”

Harry didn't take his time to answer, which was the first red flag for Louis who could tell from the moment he opened his mouth that he was lying. “I don't feel safe at home. Your dad could send somebody after me or something like that-”

“Don't bullshit me.” Harry stared at Louis, a bit dumbfounded, and then swallowed hard. “I have nowhere to go.” He simply said. “I've been to your house. You can go there.” “The landlord kicked us out.” “Where did your family go?” Harry just shrugged. “I call bullshit on this one too. You're not very creative anymore with your lies.”

He shrugged again.

“You can stay, until you figure your situation out. But I don't want any funny business going on here.”

“Okay.” No thank you, no sign of gratitude, a simple okay that Louis could do with as he returned to his work, leaving Harry alone with his meal and thoughts.

*

It was almost night time when somebody rang at Louis' door. Harry was then taking a nap inside the spare room Louis allowed him to have while he stayed at yours while the older lad was making something for dinner, struggling to get everything right, because for some odd reason, he wanted to treat Harry to a good supper, a thing he wouldn't even do for himself. Louis has been expecting that ring on his door ever since the first day he found Harry at William's house. That place had security cameras and he knew his father would freak out and get angry, ask for the footage and see Louis and Charlotte escorting Harry out.

He knew his father won't be too happy about it and will come knocking at his door, yelling at him, cursing him and just throwing a tantrum like a five years old would do.

As soon as Louis opened the door, he could see the monster he used to call father, with a red face and furrowed eyebrows. Even his designer suit and his expensive perfume couldn't hide how filthy he had become. “Where's that little cunt?” He roared as soon as the door in front of him opened. “I know he's here!” He stepped inside the house, his loud steps probably waking Harry and the neighbors.

“Yes, he's here. What are you gonna about it?” Louis answered calmly, standing in front of his father, stopping him from making another step further inside. “You're picking his side? He's played with your head too, huh? Do you need a good punch on the face to wake up?” He spat at Louis, more enraged than ever.

“I tried to warn you, before. Now leave the kid alone. He's not harming anybody.” Louis tried to keep his cool, even when knowing that his cold blood enraged his father more. “He's not harming anybody? That vicious, lying twink owes me thousands of dollars and I won't leave him be until he repays me.” He suddenly elevated his voice more, so that Harry could hear him wherever he was. “Did you hear that? If I don't get my money back, I'll be the last face you'll see before you die, you fucking cunt!”

“People live here, lower your voice and act civilized.”

“You're giving me orders now, huh?”

“Look, I'll make this short. The boy tried to escape misery by dating you, he lied yes, but he's still a kid, a poorly misguided one. What you did to him was cruel and savage. You're lucky there was no scandal about it.” William found Louis' words funny. He laughed. “Oh, how dumb you are for letting him fool you.”

“You are dumber actually.”

“Excuse me?”

“How could you not see that he was in for the money? Do you really think that a person as pretty and charming as him could date a man old enough to be their grandfather out of love? A blind person can see it was for the money. He can have anyone he wants. You were a fool and he exploited that.”

“You will regret saying this, Louis. You will regret protecting him and defying me like this.” He threatened. “You are betraying me in such an ugly way. I will never forgive this.” Louis fought the urge to roll his eyes at him. “And you, you worthless fuck, I know you're hearing me, and mark my words, you won't live long with me around!”

“Is everything alright in here?” A third person joined the conversation. It was the janitor who probably heard all the noise and decided to check on it. “Yes, thank you. The gentleman was leaving anyway.” Louis gave his father a death stare, as if telling him to stop the drama and just leave already. Surprisingly enough, he left and not without making sure to repeat to Louis that he'd be regretting his poor decisions.

After the storm came a bit of peacefulness. Louis returned to his supper after deciding that it would be better to leave Harry alone for some time. He knew the boy probably woke up and was scared shitless but he thought he was old enough to handle it on his own, Louis already offered him shelter, he would not babysit him too.

When everything was ready and he had set the table, Louis called for Harry to come and he surprisingly came pretty fast. He looked normal and very much awake. Louis had prepared a zucchini and salmon lasagna, since pasta was the only thing he knew he could not fuck up.

They ate in silence. Harry didn't seem to mind the quietness but Louis did. It made him feel awkward and would even make it hard for him to swallow his food. “So, hum, you've been awake for quite a while. How was your nap?” Louis wanted to slap himself for that stupid question. “Nice.” He answered simply, giving Louis a small smile. Him acting shy was really confusing to Louis.

“You probably want to shower, no?” That was even more stupid, Louis thought. “Yes.”

“I have clean bandages and alcohol for your back.” Harry only nodded in understanding. “What have you been doing in the room? You could've come here and watch TV or something.” It was weird how they both acted like William never even came to the house. “I grabbed a book from the shelf.” He spoke timidly and it actually surprised Louis how a person like Harry would even be interested in reading.

“What book?”

“Watering- Wutering- I don't know how to pronounce that.”

“Wuthering Heights?”

“Yeah, I think.”

“And what are your thoughts?”

“It has complicated words and it bored me. But it has a pretty picture on the cover.” The last comment made Louis grin. “So, you like to read then?” He asked, shocked that he was making this kind of talk with Harry, despite everything happening around them. “I guess. I enjoy it.”

“What's your favourite book?”

“I've read the first books of Harry Potter, my brother bought them for me when I was thirteen.” He seemed so happy to share that information with Louis, as if he'd been waiting his whole lifetime to be asked that kind of question. “That's sweet.” Louis commented, but the coldness in his voice made it obvious that he remembered what Harry's brother was.

They fell back into silence, right after that.

*

It was painful to take a bath. The hot water kept stinging all of his wounds making his pain even worse. He was too scared to use any kind of soap or gel knowing it would make him suffer, something he wasn't ready for, not just yet. So, he just remained in the tub, thinking about his twisted faith and how he could build a future for himself, alone, without resources or even proper education, while he was too scared to go outside, frightened by William's threats.

He was almost certain Louis didn't want him there, and he was fine with it. He understood it. Nobody in their right mind would want him after knowing his true, disgusting face. It didn't bother him though. His skin was too thick to make him overly sensitive over stupid things like that. He felt unwanted but that was alright. It wasn't a new feeling for him.

Harry didn't like to cry. He wasn't one to cry, really, but these days, his eyes seemed to get watery at every thought. There was the shattering pain, yes, but there was something else he had been reminded of during his hell with William. The latter found a sadistic pleasure in telling Harry how many days his brother had to live before receiving his lethal injection, once he found out that Harry got very defensive about his brother's topic. It started when William started insulting his brother, telling Harry he wasn't surprised they were related and that their family was probably only made of bloody sociopaths. Harry was restrained but that didn't stop him from spitting right into William's face who didn't take that well. The beating he received after that didn't affect him as much as having William tell him that the world would be free of his brother's evil in less than a month.

It made Harry loose all of his courage. He just started crying, all to William's biggest satisfaction. Since then, he had been weak, emotional and counting the days. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't. Most people spent more than twenty years on death row or even had their sentences cut off to life or a couple of decades but his brother, out of all the inmates, had to be executed less than two years after his sentence, all because he killed rich, powerful people, as if their life was more precious than that of the other people whose killers were graced.

Keeping these thoughts to himself made him even sadder and angrier. He knew he had nobody to share them with, he knew he wasn't good enough to write them down, so they just keep floating around his mind, frustrating him all day long. “You're all right in there?” He heard Louis' voice after a few knocks on the bathroom door. “Yes. I'm done.” He answered in the most neutral voice he could mutter. “Do you need help with the bandages and that stuff?” Harry's hand went to his back feeling the deep wounds that would probably scar very badly and damage his back forever. He didn't want to accept Louis' help, not because he felt that Louis had done so much for him already, not at all, just because he still couldn't forget what happened back in Los Angeles and how Louis treated him so badly after they had been intimate with each other and shared some moments Harry thought were magical and unforgettable, even as simple as they were.

“I think so.” He finally admitted, not really happy about having Louis, or anybody in general, touch his already, so badly violated body. He got out of the tub, drained the water and went on to dry his body using the towels Louis gave him before knotting the largest one around his waist and getting out. Louis was waiting for him on top of the bed on which Harry had his afternoon nap, with some boxes, towels, tissues and bottles scattered around him. Harry sat in front of him, facing him with his back, making him realize how bad it actually was. Some of the skin had fallen off, it was still bleeding and made Louis wonder if Niall forgot to stitch all of that.

“It's going to sting a little-” Louis warned before rubbing some of the alcohol but was soon interrupted by Harry's attitude. “I am not a kid.” He mumbled, making Louis ask himself why he even chose to put up with that brat. He gave up his precautions and didn't care about the alcohol paining him, trying to finish with it as soon as possible so he wouldn't be in Harry's presence anymore.

When he was done with Harry's back, Louis assumed that was the end and was ready to stand up but was surprised when the younger lad just laid on his stomach, carefully removing the towel and exposing the horrible wounds on both his buttocks and thighs. Louis got a little bit taken aback at first. He just kept staring at his bruised body for so long he even forgot about his task. “Is it that ugly?” Harry asked, but his voice sounded more amused than anything.

Louis didn't answer. “It's like you haven't touched my ass before. It won't bite you.” Louis was even more surprised at how well Harry was coping. It was just unreal. He was already making jokes and fooling around while Louis expected him to be at least a bit traumatized for a couple of weeks, but nope. He was done with the trauma in less than two days.

“Or does it disturb you to know that your dad enjoys whipping my ass?” There he goes with his attempts to get on Louis' nerves. “He did quite often. He likes to hurt me. Even when he's not angry at me.” Louis just sighed and got up. “You know what, you're right. You're not a kid, you can bandage yourself, on your own. Good night.”

Harry turned around slightly, enough to face Louis but not enough to expose his intimacy. “You can't handle knowing your dad is fucked up?” He had a smile on his face as he said that, an arrogant, provocative smile that made Louis want to punch him in the face. “Harry, if you're going to keep on saying shit like that, you won't be welcome here. I am already sacrificing too much for you to stay here-”

“Like what?”

“I can't stress enough how ungrateful you are. It's just crazy. There's nothing forcing me to do this and take care of you. You can at least make it easier and stop acting like you're untitled to all of this or you can just fuck off!”

“Or you can just say sorry.” Louis could not believe what he just heard. Above everything, Harry wanted him to apologize for something minor compared to all the damage he actually caused. No, just no. “You're the biggest, big-headed, asshole I've ever encountered in my life. Unbelievable.” Louis made sure to slam the door as hard as possible after him. He was already making up his mind about asking Harry to leave the next day, knowing it would be impossible for the both of them to live under the same roof without constant clashes.

Louis also made sure to lock his door, for safety purposes. He just didn't trust Harry. He went to bed way past midnight and was falling in and out of slumber when his door opened. He got scared at first and froze, unable to even breathe properly. “I think I left my bag here. Can't find it.”

It was dark but Harry's voice was anything but menacing. It actually brought some warmth inside Louis' chest. An odd feeling, it was, really. “You could've knocked.” He answered as he switched on the lights of his bedside lamp. “I like playing with locks.”

“Besides, your bag is not here, I just tidied the room.”

“I need it.”

“There are clothes you can sleep in in your room.” Louis commented when seeing that Harry was only wearing underwear. “I need something else from it.”

“What do you need from it?” At that point, Louis was out of the bed. “I just need it.” He mumbled. Louis didn't even try. He found it quite easily in a corner of the living room. However, he did not give it to Harry but kept it to himself, instead, out of precaution. “I am going to need to see what's inside of it.” He solemnly informed Harry, as if asking for his permission. Harry was about to protest but he knew it wouldn't benefit him. He had nothing to hide anyway, so he just shrugged but couldn't help the comments he made about it. “There's no need for this kind of invasion or privacy.” Said the one that it currently invading my home, Louis thought to himself as he rolled hie eyes at him.

Of course, he found a pocket knife and a small revolver in it, which was exactly the type of thing he was afraid Harry would be carrying with him. “This stays with me as long as you're here.” Which won't be very long, Louis reminded himself. “You still got plenty of kitchen knives. They'd do the same job.”

“You're not stabbing anybody while you're in here.”

“I'll stab people if I have too.” Harry spoke coldly. Louis ignored it. After that, he found a wallet, a set of keys, two mobile phones and two bottles of prescription pills. “And you won't be dealing drugs either.”

“They're my meds.”

“Yeah, of course. B'cause your name is Jenna Grands. Or is it Chester Sanford, perhaps?” Louis mocked as he read the two names written on the bottles he found. “They're mine, I need them.”

“You're addicted then. You're druggie, huh? Fucking marvelous.”

Harry just closed his eyes, trying to remain calm. “They're my meds.” He repeated. “I am curious. What are they supposed to do to you?” Louis didn't look like he was taking him seriously. “They reduce my anxiety.”

“Yeah, they're drugs. That's what drugs do.”

“Not like that. And I don't have to explain anything to you. Now, give them to me.”

“If you're going to get high on prescription drugs, you'll be getting your fix outside of this house.”

“If you're looking for a reason to kick me out, you can just-” Harry started before Louis spoke. “Anxiety. The bed-wetting.” He just realized that. “Yes.” Louis didn't need anymore details. He already figured out why they didn't have his name on them. He knew it costed too much to actually go see a psychiatrist, Harry probably already knew what was wrong with him and any drug dealer could get his hand on prescription pills.

Louis gave him back the bottles. They were probably the reason why Harry's been looking around for his bag. Louis felt shitty.

“Do you need water with that?” He knew it was the least he could do. Harry nodded as he placed a single pill on the palm of his hand. Louis got off from the couch they had been sitting on and made his way to the kitchen, which was right behind them. He returned with a glass of water. Harry swallowed his pill. “Is your anxiety better, then?” Louis asked, trying to make things better.

“I don't wet myself anymore, so yeah.”

Louis felt bad for the kid. He had said it himself, Harry was still just a kid and kids are sometimes annoying. It didn't mean he had to face this world on his own nor did it mean that Louis had to be too harsh on him. He was probably under so much stress at the time, Louis figured. He couldn't imagine how Harry felt like. He immediately abandoned his decision of kicking him out, wrapped his arm around his shoulder in an attempt to provide some comfort, cautious not to touch any skin around the wounded areas. “It always gets better.” He tried to say.

“Not for people like me.”

“Don't say that.”

“You don't know how many times I've tried to get my shit together. I always end up in a worse place than before.”

“This time will be the one.” Louis never imagined himself saying something as cliché as that but he didn't want to witness such despair creeping inside Harry's mind. And despite being a rather cold person, and not a big lover of physical contact, he approached Harry, and embraced him fully. “It'll get better.” He whispered, unsure if Harry actually wanted to be touched in such a way. He was soon relieved when Harry hugged him back, wrapping his arms around him as hard as he could as he buried his head in Louis' chest, seeking comfort and security.

“I'm scared.” Harry admitted in a muffled voice. Louis could only caress his short locks to encourage him not to give up to his fears. “I'm sorry.” Louis said, abandoning his pride and stubbornness. “And you don't deserve any of this. I am sorry I said horrible stuff to you.” Harry embraced him harder after he apologized. The hug lasted a few minutes. Harry was the one to break it. He sniffled a few times and wiped his tears.

“I'm sorry too.” He quickly said, clearly not very used to apologizing before getting up and taking his medicine and bag with him, leaving Louis alone with the weapons and an enormous amount of guilt weighing on his chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COLLEGE IS STARTING SOON I AM VERY SCARED TOO


	14. Chapter 14.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets better and then not. Also, Harry's story, sort of??

Louis' and Harry's cohabitation was oddly working out. Harry wasn't being fussy nor obnoxious while Louis tried to control what went out of his mouth, careful not to say anything to destroy the peacefulness that settled between them. There was, of course, some sexual tension in the atmosphere, enough to make things awkward at certain times but not enough to make living together unbearable.

Louis was happy to be in Harry's company, honestly, but he could see that Harry was not. He didn't know what made him so miserable and quiet all the damn time but he wanted to do anything to put a smile on his face and make him feel better about himself. So when Harry brought up his need for a job, Louis did anything in his power to help him. It would have been easier if Harry wasn't clueless about his aspirations and how the business world worked. What made it even harder was Harry's limited education, which at first shocked Louis. He forgot about it quickly because there were other things to worry about, such as Harry not even knowing what the minimum wage was, him thinking that ten dollars an hour was too low of an income and ignoring that there were families living comfortably with lower than that. He even thought that working 8 hours a day was outrageous and too tiring. All in all, Harry probably thought that money grew on trees, that was the conclusion Louis came to.

Harry even wanted to sign contracts with modeling agencies, at the beginning before Louis explained to him that it wasn't as easy as it actually was and that a normal, regular job would be better than modeling, at least for now. Harry, however was still not convinced, but he judged better to postpone those wild ambitions and look for something more realistic, for the moment. Just to acquire some experience, at least.

Louis knew what Harry's element was and thought it would be best if Harry applied to a shop or a department store where charming, good looking people are often needed to sell and help customers out. Louis knew Harry could handle that better than being a waiter or a cashier where he had to deal with impossibly obnoxious assholes, most of the time.

However, it was not as easy as it sounded to get that kind of job and despite Harry asking Louis to let him be independent and face everything on his own, Louis had to intervene. A day before Harry's interview, he paid the store's staff a visit, asked to see the manager and actually offered him money to “take care” and be “understanding” with Harry, since he was going through hard times and needed the job to stand on his feet again. In other words, Louis bribed them so they could employ Harry, give him a decent pay and make him feel comfortable. They didn't ask much questions.

On his way back home, he shopped for more clothes to give to Harry and brought dinner with him. He enjoyed spoiling Harry, which is a thing he never thought about as he never understood how his father so blindly spent thousands on him. Now, he knew why. Seeing Harry's eyes light up at the sight of his favourite foods or new clothes he liked gave him a satisfaction he rarely felt. Even if Harry, surprisingly, even after getting all excited about the stuff Louis got him, would refuse it. Louis always had to do a bit of convincing to get him to accept it all.

That day was no different than the others. Knowing what Harry liked, he shopped in the women's section and hoped it fit perfectly his taste. So when Louis knocked on the door, he had a big smile on his face, knowing there was someone that would open. It still felt odd for him to have somebody to get home to. It was almost as if they were a couple living together. Well, Louis wished they actually were but he knew it was near impossible. Harry was way too damaged to be stable with somebody at the moment and Louis knew he didn't have enough patience to make it work either.

Louis' smile soon dropped when the door didn't open. He let go of his bags and looked nervously for his keys. He knew Harry might not have heard it or was too busy but Louis was still afraid something terrible could have happened. Just the threat of his father scared him sometimes. William was powerful, he really could hurt Harry seriously if he wanted and that was something always sitting at the back of Louis' mind as he hoped his father quickly forgot about it. Also, Harry was not one to stay away from trouble so who knew what other folks wanted him hurt or dead.

However, this time, everything was fine. When Louis entered his flat, he found Harry asleep in front of the TV and finally let out a breath he didn't even feel he was holding. Louis squeezed himself into the space left on the sofa, curious that Harry feel asleep watching a news channel and not one of those stupid reality shows he seemed to enjoy so much. However, nothing interesting came up so he soon got up and went to his room where he checked a few e-mails and called his mother to catch up. Louis didn't tell her about what happened and apparently, neither did Charlotte. She knew there were some tensions between Louis and his father, but that was about it.

When Harry woke up, it was already dark outside. He had a headache and he felt terribly weak. It was probably because he overslept that day. He coughed once or twice before standing up, rubbing his heavy eyes and trying to make it to the bathroom without tripping on air. There, he washed his face, noticing the absence of any bruises, fortunately, before his job interview. Then he lifted his shirt. His ribs were probably healing since it was not very painful to breathe anymore, but it still hurt sometimes. What hurt him more was to even take a glance at his back. It looked horrible. He felt so unattractive whenever he remembered his back. It would probably scare off anybody who sees it.

A soft knock was heard on the bathroom door. “You're gonna stay there for long?” “No.” Harry answered, immediately covering his chest again and opening the bathroom door. Louis was standing right in front of him, a soft, tired look on his face as well. There was a minute of awkwardness that the few inches between them created. Louis cleared his throat. “I'll heat dinner.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You didn't eat at lunch either.”

“Really, I'm not hungry at all.” Harry insisted. “I'll just go to bed.” Louis got disappointed. “You just woke up.” “I don't feel right.” Harry explained briefly, giving Louis a glance that begged him to stop talking. “Alright.” He breathed, defeat apparent on his face.

*

Harry was a living ball of nerves the day after. His legs wouldn't stop shaking, neither would his arms. He'd spent his entire breakfast chewing on his lips, sweating through his shirt, that he had to change afterwards. “Louis.” He finally spoke, after returning with another look. Louis was still sipping on his coffee, as he read the news via his smartphone. “Do you think you can drive me there?” Once he asked his question, Harry got a little bit calmer, making Louis wonder if he was also nervous about asking that simple service from him.

“Yeah, sure.”

“And will you drive me back?” He was looking at his shoes as he said that, probably too ashamed to ask even more from him. “It's a saturday, I have nothing better to do.” Louis gave him a smile he did not see. “I have to be there at ten.” Harry reminded him so Louis stared at the clock on his phone's screen. “It's not even eight thirty.”

“I want to go now, please.”

Louis only sighed. “Okay.” He stood up, put his cup in the dishwasher, grabbed his car keys and walked towards the door, where Harry was already waiting for him.

Louis felt Harry stiff when they got inside the underground parking lot, almost as if he was scared. He walked quickly but tried to stay beside Louis, as if too terrified to be alone. When Louis unlocked his car, Harry jumped into its safety, his breath finally steadying.

“Everything will be fine. They'll like you.” Louis reassured him, even when knowing that the interview did not scare him that much. It was the thought of being alone, of being powerless and having people after you. That was the terrifying thing. Then, they remained silent for the rest of the ride.

Louis parked right outside of a mall Harry has never been to before. “You're not coming?” That caught Louis off-guard. “Uh- I- All right.” So Louis tagged along. When they entered the store Harry applied to, it was not even nine. Harry looked around, observing the costumers, the people working there in their minimalist black uniforms and the shelves of make-up and skincare products all around him. The fact that most of the people working there were women made him feel a bit more comfortable, as he tended to enjoy a feminine company rather than that of a man.

“It's still early, Harry.”

“I know.” Harry whispered before exiting the store, with Louis following him from behind. Harry sat on a bench, right next to the elevators and in front of the shop he was just in. Louis took place beside him. Out of the blue, Harry asked Louis to hold his hand. It took him several seconds to process what he had just heard. Harry seemed to be so blunt and natural about it that Louis felt weird about finding his request strange.

“S-Sure.” Harry's hand was sweaty and very warm. And even though Louis hated nothing more in the world than moist, sweaty palms, he still didn't let go. However, he still didn't know what it all meant. “You really don't have to be so nervous.”

“What if they don't like me? Or what if I start stuttering or act stupid?”

“None of that will happen. I am one hundred percent sure you'll get it, alright? And if you don't, we'll look for something similar. There's plenty of fish in the sea.”

“And what if they ask for something in return of the job?”

Louis rolled his eyes. There were too many 'what if's inside Harry's head. “They won't ask for money, they are the ones supposed to pay you.”

“I wasn't talking about money.”

Louis didn't know whether to feel angry or sorry for him once he understood what Harry meant. It was saddening to see that Harry's rotten mentality has still not left him and that he still thought he had to sell his body to get anything he wanted. “That rarely happens. And not for small jobs like this one.”

“But what if-” Harry was about to start again. “Oh my god, stop over-thinking.”

Harry removed his hand from Louis' grip and decided to remain silent for the rest of the time. They got up for a moment so Louis could eat something, since he didn't really eat a proper breakfast and stayed in a cafe nearby, waiting for time to pass. When ten came by, Harry went out, without saying a word, leaving Louis frustrated. All he did was ask him to stop with the stupid, exhausting questions, he didn't even raise his voice, Harry was just too sensitive.

*

“I am Hannah. Please, take a seat.” A middle-aged woman welcomed Harry once his name had been called. He had entered through a door in the store on which was written “staff only” to find a room with a desk on it, said Hannah and several loaded bookshelves and carton boxes. “Harry, right?”

Harry knew that if he only nodded his head, she'd see that he was shy and would immediately cross his name. “Yes.” He didn't seem to find the confidence he used to have, no matter how hard he tried. “You're quite young, I see. You're a student?”

“No. I didn't get the opportunity to go to college.” He was hoping she wouldn't ask about highschool. His prayers were answered and she moved on. “Do you live close by?” “Yes. I am sharing an apartment with a friend, right now, just downtown.”

“That's nice. Any foreign languages spoken?”

“No. Only english.”

“That's not a very big issue. What about past experiences?”

“I am looking for my first job ever.” Harry felt that it was going worse than he expected. “Alright.” She nodded. “Do you know your way around cosmetics, beauty products?”

“I like to take care of myself so I'd say yes. I have some knowledge.”

She shot him a smile before getting up and offering her hand for him to shake. “Well, wait for our call in the next few days, Harry. It's been a pleasure.”

Harry shook her hand, feeling completely destroyed, knowing that he'd never receive any call. As he walked back to the coffeeshop where he left Louis, he checked his phone only to find a text from him. “Call me when you're done.” He read but decided to see inside the cafe before calling him. Just out of pure laziness and stubbornness. However, he soon regretted not calling when he found that Louis had met some people there. They were friends from university, most of them Harry had seen before in the frat house and it made him feel uneasy.

He wanted to throw up when recognizing the dirty blonde hair of a very familiar person. It was Alexander and the fact that Louis knew what he did and still talked to him normally and just laughed at something he said made him feel sick. He didn't really know how to deal with the situation. Exit the place before anybody saw him and then call Louis or make his presence known to all of them? The fact that his feet remained frozen didn't help in accomplishing any of that.

It took Louis several minutes to finally look up and meet Harry's terrified gaze. Louis tilted his head towards the exit, hoping Harry would understand and leave before him but it did nothing but fuel Harry's anger. The latter decided to walk towards them, to Louis' surprise. “Shall we go?” He asked coldly, not caring about the faces of every one of them turning towards him in curiosity.

“Hum, guys this is Harry, my...” Louis froze at that moment, not knowing what status he had to give Harry. He was certain that whatever he said, Harry would not be happy. All of his friends, looked at Louis, with intense eyes, waiting for him to continue, and most especially Alexander who still had some trouble getting over Harry. “Cousin and fuckbuddy.” Harry ended Louis' sentence for him. Louis forced out a laugh. “He's a joker. He's a family friend.” Alexander rolled his eyes at that.

“Yeah, I am a family friend. Now, can we go?”

“Alright, guys. I need to go. See you all soon, yeah?”

“I gotta go, too, actually.” Alexander added, forcing Harry to make a few steps backwards. When Alexander stood to his feet, finally facing Harry, the atmosphere got thick. “We're going, Harry?” Louis called. They both made their way out of the small place, even when feeling another presence right behind them. Louis knew Alexander was just being a kid so he tried to ignore him.

“How did it go?”

“Not good.”

“What makes you say that?”

Harry just shrugged. They got inside an elevator, and as the door was about to close, Alexander had to get in too. Alexander didn't acknowledge Harry while he stared right at Louis, making him feel uneasy. “You share your dad's toys?” “You should mind your own business.” Louis replied, as he suddenly held Harry's hand, wanting to reassure him and to also stop him from doing anything crazy.

“Aw, are you afraid his feelings will get hurt?”

“Alexander. We don't want a scene here.”

“How much does he charge you? For me it was, what? A hundred for a blowjob, can you believe that?” Louis didn't think much before letting go of Harry's hand and throwing a punch at Alexander's face, catching him off guard and knocking him to the floor. At that same moment, the door opened, Louis quickly got out, followed by Harry who didn't seem to be very affected by what happened.

“You shouldn't have punched him.” Louis didn't answer Harry, knowing that nothing he ever did would please him. “It's not like he was lying.” Louis' hands gripped on the steering wheel as he tried to get out of the parking lot, trying not to care for Harry's words.

“Why did you hit him?”

“I didn't like what he said.” Louis only mumbled, trying not to give Harry too much attention. “You paid me for sex, too.”

“I was angry and didn't mean it.”

“What were you angry for? I didn't do anything wrong.”

“I don't wanna talk about that, alright?” Louis shut Harry down, not willing to explain his family's horrific acts, nor his father's abuse. “Alright.” Harry answered him drily.

*

Harry's mood was always changing. He'd be gloomy all day only to have a smile on his face at dinner, or vice versa. Two days after his interview, Harry's mood shifts were even more emphasized since it was a very dreaded day. He had been moody for the last days, after meeting Alexander but that day, he woke up with a constant scared look on his face, as if he was waiting for something horrible to happen. Louis tried to get him to talk, but nothing worked.

Louis left for the day, since uni was about to start, just so he could renew his enrollment and take care of some paper work. When he came back, Harry was happy, his eyes bright and his mouth smiley. He even hugged Louis as he opened the door, telling him that the store just called him and that he got the job. Louis tried to share his excitement even when feeling quite guilty about what he had done. But at the same time, he felt some kind of satisfaction, knowing that they probably only gave him the job because he paid them. He made Harry happy at the end, and that was all that mattered, right?

“We have to celebrate this, right? When are you starting?”

“They told me I can start tomorrow.”

“That's amazing. Told you they'd like you.” Louis was about to suggest for a second time that they'd go out and celebrate but Harry's phone started ringing at that exact same time. Harry looked for it inside his pocket. His smile dropped as he read the caller's name. “Uh- I need to- I should get this.” The spark in his eyes suddenly disappeared and his smile vanished.

Louis saw Emily written on the screen and was curious to know who she might be. Harry entered his room before answering.

His thumb was trembling as he slid it over the screen. Then he placed it right next to his ear. “Harry.” He knew why she was calling. “Yes?” If he didn't know, he would've never answered any of her calls. “I talked to him.” She spoke, her voice calm and cold, as if none of what was happening affected her. “He didn't call you because-” She stopped talking to catch her breath, as if trying to hold her tears.

“Did you tell him I'm homeless and not welcome at your place?”

“Harry. That's not what it's about. I know you can take care of yourself.”

“Go fuck yourself.” He cussed with a cold voice before hanging up on her, feeling pissed off rather than sad. Angry tears made their way to his eyes, blurring his vision, as he thought about trashing the whole room to calm down before judging that it wouldn't be the best thing to do. So he just let himself slide down the wall he had his back on, until he reached the ground and just sat there, crying.

Meanwhile, as he waited for Harry to come back, Louis crashed on his sofa and twitched on the telly, hoping to find something entertaining. It was, again, on a news channel. Louis was about to zap when he heard a very familiar name, Harry's last name to be exact. His hand froze as his eyes got glued on the reporter, as she talked and talked about the latest execution in the country. Louis' blood ran cold in his veins. They spoke about his unusually short wait before the lethal injection, the victims, which were all important, wealthy people, one of them was even planning to run for presidency before the incident, another was a senator, the others, businessmen, well-known philanthropists, etcetera. They also talked about his last meal, which consisted of mashed potatoes, chicken fingers and coke. He reportedly asked to talk on the phone to his younger sister. The call took no more than five minutes. He didn't have any last words.

He was probably dead by the moment the reporter finished what she was saying, all while Louis remained unable to process all of the information he just had been exposed to. His mind went to Harry whom he was sure knew about everything. He couldn't imagine how he felt as he had never lost somebody close, especially not in such a brutal way.

When Louis came back from his transe-like state, he got up, feeling awkward and jogged to the room. When he opened the door, Harry was simply sitting on the floor, his phone beside him as he stared into the void. It was obvious that he had been crying but his tears were long gone, now.

“You okay?” Louis asked shyly, not knowing what he could do.

Harry just looked at him, his eyes sad and on the verge of tears, before looking away again. Louis approached him then spread his arm towards him, to help him up. “I'll just go to sleep.” Harry mumbled once he was up. His voice was hoarse and cracked. It pained Louis to look at him or even hear him talk. “I am in my room if you need anything.” Louis awkwardly said, as he let go of Harry's hand. The latter didn't react.

When Louis came back to his own room, he felt oddly inspired to write another article on his ever-growing blog. He only typed the title: a big, bold “THE STYLES”. At first, he wanted it to focus solely on the newly executed member of the family but since he felt like there was something more to it, he decided to make it more general, knowing that Harry had some interesting history too, and probably some other members of the family he didn't know of.

After that, he fell into a pit of other articles, conspiracy theories and overall, weird explanations behind the older Styles' gruesome act. And yes, nobody believed he did it to join a gang like he claimed. The more recurrent one was that he had been paid by other politicians to kill their opponents but even that didn't convince Louis.

When he got tired, he saved the empty article for later and went to check back on Harry, feeling a bit guilty about leaving him alone in such hard times. The guilt crept in more when he found him face buried in a pillow to muffle his sobs. But Louis was awkward like that, he didn't know how to react in situations like these. “It's gonna be alright.” He whispered as approached him, before sitting right next to where he was laying, as his hand slowly caressed his back.

“He didn't even ask to talk to me-” His voice wasn't clear but Louis quickly understood what it was about. Lord, Harry was just too damn sensitive, caring about a phone call probably more than the fact that the guy was dead. “I am sure he had his reasons.”

“No!” Harry cried as he lifted his face off the pillow. “Now, I won't ever see him or hear his voice again. Do you know how that feels?” Louis didn't know why but something felt oddly wrong with the way Harry was saying those things. It just felt as if he was talking about a lover, not a brother. It just threw him off. “I am sorry.”

“I feel sick and tired.” Harry suddenly confessed as he dried his face, using the hem of the t-shirt he was wearing. “Look, Harry, he was in jail before, and you didn't get to see him either, it won't change much.” Louis expected another outburst, but he was convinced that he was saying the truth and nothing but the honest, pure truth. “I know.” Harry replied calmly. “It's just that I feel weird, it's like my stomach is burning and empty at the same time and I feel scared.”

“It's alright.” Louis repeated. Harry's puffy eyes stared at him for quite some time, as if hesitant. “C-Can you hug me?” First, the hand-holding, then the hug, and what's next? Louis asked himself. Not that he minded, but he just couldn't see where it would all lead. “F-Forget about. It was dumb to ask that.”

“No. I- Hum, C'me here.” After the hug, the next thing they knew, they were both laying on the same bed, Harry curled up against Louis, with nothing but silence around them. “Harry?” Louis called with a low voice, unsure of whether the younger lad had fallen asleep or not. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question?” His voice was filled with precaution. “Yeah.”

“What were your brother's motivation. Nobody believes what he said. And the last time, you said yourself it was revenge.” Louis didn't know if that was an appropriate time or way to ask these kind of questions. “I don't know. I just said it like that.”

He was lying, Louis guessed it. “Well, I you feel the need to talk about anything heavy on your chest, I'll be here. We can talk about anything you want. You can just tell me random stuff, it'll make you feel better.” Harry remained silent for only a few minutes.

“I don't know what to say. But I wanna talk, though.”

“I don't know. Anything. Like a happy memory from your childhood.”

“Um- When I was- Uh, nine, I guess-” Suddenly, Harry's voice was much clearer and happier, and even if Louis hated crappy childhood stories, he was ready to listen to Harry's, if it would make him feel better. “My brother turned eighteen and he came back from foster care-” That didn't make sense to Louis, because, first of all, why in the hell would the eldest be in foster care and not the youngest? And also, why would they even need foster care? However, he let Harry continue, knowing better than to interrupt him.

“He stayed with us for like- a few weeks and then he moved to his own place, because he was working. And he asked me to move in with him, b'cause I didn't like living with my parents.” Louis couldn't help but feel like this story was actually creepy. He just got a weird feeling that Harry's relationship with his brother was odd. “He bought books and lots of food and he threw me birthday parties with cakes and gifts.” He could feel Harry smiling, just from the smoothness and joy in his voice. “That's sweet.” Louis commented. “Why was he in foster care, though?” Louis asked carefully but immediately regretted when Harry remained silent.

“If you don't want to-”

“No- I just- Nobody ever was interested in my life. I don't know. It feels weird.”

“Well if you feel better while doing it, then, I am interested in your life.” Maybe that sounded a little bit odd, but that was Louis' way. “Well, my brother and sister were in foster case because our parents were both jailed before I was born.” Harry's voice was shy, even ashamed. He buried his face even deeper into Louis' chest. “They got out of jail and while my mom was pregnant with me, my dad went to jail again, I guess. I don't remember him being present in my early childhood.”

The term early childhood made Louis think of the fact that Harry had been a victim of organ trafficking when he was just a toddler. That was an awful thing to remember.

“Where's the rest of your family?” Louis really did ask uncomfortable questions. “I don't know.” Harry voice went all small as he said that. He also slowly separated himself from Louis, to lay straight, their face straight across each other. “Who do you think you look like more? Your mum or dad?” Well, that was a pretty, normal, generic question. Nothing could go wrong with that one, Louis told himself. But, oh boy was he wrong.

“I don't know. They were both just- very ugly. That's weird to say about your parents.” Yes, pretty weird, Louis agreed in his mind. “They both did some heavy drugs and it fucked their skin and faces, they looked bad.” As he said that, Harry tried so hard to escape Louis' eyes, feeling as if any eye contact would make him vulnerable and he would cry again. “I don't know how their addiction got so bad. I don't even know how they met or if they were in love- I just- I don't like to think about them. They make me sick. I hate them.” That went downhill pretty quickly.

“That's a bit harsh.”

“If you were me, you'd have killed them. A long time ago.”

“Is it that bad?”

“My father left the house, didn't tell me, probably sold all my stuff for a fix, the landlord rented it to somebody else, and I was left homeless. And if I didn't know you, I'd probably be working the streets at this same moment. They're the worst parents you could ever imagine. The worst.”

“That's awful.”

“But when I was with my brother, he took care of me, and I didn't starve, went to school. I felt normal for a while, with him. Then it had to end. I can't believe he's dead. He didn't deserve a death like that.”

“The people he shot didn't deserve a death so gruesome either.”

“They deserved it.”

“Well, I'd like to know why.”

“They're rich, entitled snobs. That hate people like me and my brother. They deserve it.”

“That's not a valid reason to kill people.”

“Whatever.” Harry mumbled angrily before turning around, letting his back face Louis instead, who didn't know what to make of the situation. Harry always had to turn anything into a fight, he couldn't maintain civil conversation. Always a drama queen.

When Louis was about to get up, Harry turned around again. “If I tell you something now, will you believe me and then act like I never told you?” He asked way too quickly for Louis to even process. Louis just nodded. “The guys my brother shot, they-” Harry took a deep breath, his eyes still lost, as if trying to gather up some courage or some lies. “-they hurt me.”

“What do you mean?” Louis was afraid of what Harry would say. “You know what I mean.” Louis honestly didn't have a clue. Or maybe he didn't want to go there and assume things. “Harry, I need you to tell me.”

“Touched me, molested me, I don't know how to call it. I don't want to talk about. I lied. Nothing happened. I don't know why it happened. I don't know. I am just inventing a story. Forget what I just said.” Harry was panicking, his eyes were watery again, and his hands fidgety. Louis didn't know what to do. Honestly, he didn't know what to believe. He fortunately made the right choice.

“Whatever you say, I'll believe. You don't have to be scared. It's just me in here. Tell me what happened.” Louis used the calmest tone he could find, to avoid one of Harry's dramatic panic attacks. “No- Nothing happened. You know what, you should go to your room. And I'll sleep. I have a job to get to tomorrow.”

“What you said was alarming. I won't leave until you explain.”

Harry straightened his back and sat on the bed, hugging his legs against his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees. “One of them started touching me and they passed me around. That's it.” Louis couldn't believe his ears. “More detail, perhaps? Look, I know it's difficult for you, certainly but just take a deep breath and tell me about it.”

Harry's legs were shaking at that point. His toes were curled in anxiety as he tried to find adequate words to describe everything. “My mum worked as a maid in his house-”

“Who is he?”

“The one running for president. That was before he got into into politics I think.” Harry's eyes were focusing on the wall in front of him, as if everything he was narrating was displayed on that wall. “My mom would leave me in the living room while she worked, because I didn't have anywhere to stay. And- sometimes, he'd pass by and not notice me. But one time, he did.”

“And he came to where I sat and asked me about my name and age and why I was there. The next day, he came back and gave me a lollipop. He asked for a kiss in return. A kiss on the mouth.” Louis hoped it would stop at the kiss. He honestly prayed for that. “The day after, he showed me to his room and gave me some toys. I played with them and he watched me do it.”

Louis was sitting, too, his mouth half open and his eyes wide in apprehension, as he listened to Harry's words. “The first time it got off the track, he locked his room's door and then- I remember he had this big leather sofa in the middle of the place and he sat on it and started taking his pants off. I was weirded out, especially when he told me to come closer. I just stood there, right in front of his hard, naked penis. I didn't even know what the fuck was that.”

Louis' heart was sinking lower in his chest.

“He asked me to touch it and I did and then he asked me to suck on it like a lollipop and-” Harry stopped talking for a moment, took a deep breath before carrying in on. “-I did. And he carried on. It got more and more intense. One time, my mom walked on us and-” Louis was preparing himself for the drama but what Harry said after chocked him deeply. “-And she didn't do anything about it. She asked for money instead.” Harry sniffled lightly. “And I became a prostitute. A sort of doll that provided him with the pleasure of fucking a child. He invited some other people, sometimes. I remember every one of them. I remember every little thing they made me do and did to me. I remember telling one of them to stop because he was hurting me and him laughing and going harder on me. I still feel their hands on me. I still get nightmares.”

“My brother is the only person who knows, except for my mother. And he was very short tempered. And violent at times. He had something against priviligied pricks and found a reason to hate them more. I think he stalked them for a while, studied them. I don't know much about how he did it. But I know I felt safe when they were all dead.” A single tear rolled on Harry's cheek after that.

Louis hurried to hug him, even when after the story settled deep inside him, he couldn't help but feel certain that it was all a massive and inventive lie.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay two days left before college starts fml  
> also do u believe harry's story or nah??  
> maybe theres only 1 chapter left hehehe


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